Emilia's journey home (the end?)

"And we're out!"

The cameras were shut off, the audience began filing out, a team of runners appeared to tidy up the set, and the host wandered off to have a debrief with the producer.

Nobody bothered to deal with the damp, shivering, naked girl curled on the couch. She was sobbing quietly to herself, tears splashing down onto her bicep, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

It was only when someone poked her shoulder blade that she jerked out of her trance.

"Excuse me, I need to clean."

Looking around, Emilia saw a cleaner stood over her, tapping her foot impatiently and holding the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner. The set was dimly lit, and nobody else was around. Had they seriously just abandoned her there?!

Unfolding herself, Emilia alighted from the sofa and scurried in the general direction of her dressing room, bent double and arms thrown across herself.

"Hello?" the nude girl called out hesitantly. The place was in semi-darkness, and paired with her rumbling stomach and the sensations she was getting from her bladder, she surmised that she'd been sat there for a long time.

The deeper into the building she ventured, the more anxious she became. Everything seemed to be locked up, and there wasn't even a discarded coat lying around that she could use. Before long, Emilia entered a corridor that looked familiar.

"Yes!" she hurried eagerly over to the door with her name on it, dying to be reunited with her clothes again...but it didn't budge. "No, no, no!"

"Hey! Who's there?"

Squeaking, Emilia rushed back the way she'd come, her bare feet slapping against the floor, and threw herself around the corner.

"I know you're here," a voice said. The Brit slapped her hands to her mouth even as her bare chest heaved, out of breath from that short sprint. "Come out now, or it'll only get worse for you."

Emilia didn't want to be seen in her current state of undress, but what better option was there?

Covering as best as she could with her arms, the brunette tiptoed back around the corner, shyly averting her gaze and squinting as a torch was pointed straight at her.

"Can you shine that somewhere else, please?" she squeaked.

"Miss Clarke? What are you still doing here?" the security guard hadn't lowered his torch.

"I...I was abandoned..." she muttered, feeling another round of tears coming on, but refusing to let herself break down again.

"Well you can't stay here, I'll be locking up for the night shortly."

"Can I at least get my stuff first?" Emilia asked, inching towards her dressing room.

Rolling his eyes, as though a naked girl wanting her clothes was an unreasonable request, the security guard unlocked her dressing room door.

"Quickly, then," he said as Emilia rushed inside. She switched on the light and saw her clothes strewn haphazardly around the room. Had she left them like that? It had been such a long night, she couldn't remember.

Without any time to dress, the brunette did a quick lap of the room, scooping up her garments, noticing that her underwear, shoes and socks were absent. Trying not to think about the creep who had pilfered her things, Emilia stopped to snatch up her phone, car keys and purse before exiting into the corridor, holding the bundle to her chest. As she followed the guard towards the exit, she cringed at the coldness beneath her bare feet and the loud noises her stomach was making.

"Well, thanks for coming, Miss Clarke," the guard said, smirking. "We hope to see you back in the future."

He shoved her firmly in the back, causing her to stumble forward, and the moment she passed over the threshold, he closed and locked the door behind her.

After dressing in what clothes she had left, and after an awkward scamper across the car park on her bare feet, Emilia made it home without any more drama.

But it would be a long time before she would forget the events of that evening.