Madison turned back to the way she'd come onto the stage, pushing through a red velvet curtain.
"Our star!" the clown announced to the audience, as a spotlight shone down on Madison from somewhere above. "I think a worldwide tour is in her future, I can see it now! I see London, I see France..." the audience joined in enthusiastically with the ending, "I see Madison's underpants!"
Madison found a door behind the curtain, she went through it and slammed it behind her. She was back in the Neibolt house, on the landing... But the stairs were gone. Three walls around her were blank, leaving only the one with the door.
She looked down at her body, chest heaving against the thin white bra, her blue knickers with a cartoon panda smiling up at her.
"This can't be real, it can't be!" she gasped, "But if it isn't real, where did my dress go?" she turned to look at the doors. "Right, clearly this is a trick. The one that shouldn't be embarrassing at all is actually very embarrassing, so the one that says it's very embarrassing..." she turned the handle and walked through the door. As she did, there was a tugging on her shoulders and chest, and she realised her bra strap had snagged on a loose nail.
"Damn, come on..." Madison half-turned to free her underwear, when suddenly the floor dropped away from underneath her.
Madison's stomach lurched into her mouth as she fell through nothingness, her blonde hair streaming behind her, and her bra left hanging from the nail up above.
The fall lasted just long enough for Madison to feel in real danger, before she suddenly landed on something soft.
She looked around her; she was in a familiar room, one she had stared at the walls of many times. They were adorned with pictures done by students, a map of the solar system, a diagram of a disected frog.
"Madison!" a voice from the front of the room got her attention, and she turned to the stern middle-aged woman. "Falling asleep in class again?"
"Wait, this isn't right..." Madison began.
"I should think not, you need to get more sleep at home."
"No, I mean... I left school, I'm 18!"
"I don't think so, Miss Granger." the teacher laughed, "And now we've got your full attention, you have a pressing question to answer."
"I do?"
"Yes. Where are your clothes?"
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