Me Life Story by Scarlett Moffatt (best classic books of all time txt) 📗

that just because Gaston is fancied by all the town, that he is a proper lad, that he has rippling muscles, that his arse looks like two eggs in a hanky, that you could grate Parmesan cheese on his abs and he has the glossiest hair ever seen on an animated man, it does not mean he isn’t the bad guy. You can be the most handsome guy in town but can still be a chauvinistic fuck boy. I mean I’m not saying I agree with bestiality either. Or marrying someone that’s locked you up against your own free will (Stockholm Syndrome?). But beauty is only skin deep and that message is important.

My flat in London is covered in Beauty and the Beast memorabilia. I have Cogsworth the clock, Lumière the candle, a Chip cup, and a Mrs Potts and Chip salt-and-pepper shaker. I have endless Disney quotes in frames. In the spare bedroom I have: ‘Dear Peter Pan, I’ve left my window open. Please come rescue me.’ In my bedroom I have the famous Belle quote: ‘I want adventure in the great wide somewhere, I want it more than I can tell.’ In my living room I have a famous Walt Disney quote: ‘It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.’ I even have one in my toilet, obviously a Winnie the Pooh quote: ‘Life is a journey to be experienced, not a problem to be solved.’ I know at twenty-seven it’s probably a little extreme but I believe you are never too old for Disney.

When the Takeaway team first told me, ‘We are doing the live final show in Disney World Florida,’ I could not control my emotions. When they continued, ‘And you will be performing in front of the castle on Main Street, during a parade, dressed as Mary Poppins,’ I knew then that all those years of believing in dreams wasn’t silly: they do come true.

Waking up on the morning of travelling I experienced an emotion I wish I could bottle up and give to every single person. I literally felt like I was floating on air all the way to the airport. Meeting up with all of the two hundred fans of the show who had won tickets to come and watch the final was unreal. Everyone was on such a high.

As a treat for myself, I bought some magazines from WHSmith. Now although I love all the normal mags (you know the ones with cool, sexy names that entice you to buy them like Cosmopolitan, Heat, OK!, Look, Closer, Reveal, etc., where you find out all the celeb gossip whilst learning what you should be wearing and how to do your highlighter properly), when I’m on a plane I read things like Take a Break, That’s Life!, Chat and Real People. Magazines that are basically Jeremy Kyle in print, with a few crosswords, and which tell you where the best place to buy your sausages for a casserole and how you can turn eight empty litre bottles of Coke, a piece of plywood and an old blanket into a new lounge chair for your living room. I absolutely love them and they got me through the long flight.

We arrived at an early hour of the morning at the Floridian Hotel in Orlando. I was with my good friend and producer Mike Spencer (he is one of the geniuses behind Love Island – you can thank him later). I knew I was going to get no sleep. I sat in my Belle pyjamas eating a full marzipan-shaped Mickey Mouse in the dark, knowing that in four hours I had to be up again to start rehearsals at the park. It was intense practising the next morning but I didn’t care because I wanted to make sure I got everything perfect – this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I wanted to remember and feel every single second of it.

The day of the show arrived – four days of having fun at rehearsals had flown by, and I couldn’t believe the day had finally come. Virgin Atlantic were kind enough to fly my mam, dad and Ava out to watch me. I felt like a movie star. They came to meet me in my very own RV which had my name on the door; it had a little movie director’s seat with a light-up mirror and a fridge which was full of Fiji water (which obviously I had never drank before as it’s about four quid a bottle so I made sure to drink my own bodyweight of it) and lots of chocolates and goodies.

‘What do you think, Moffatts?’ I said to my family. Ava hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe.

‘This is just unbelievable,’ my dad replied.

‘Just think, Scarlett, if you could go back in time and say to those bullies that this is what would happen, or to the time you were nearly over your overdraft. It just feels surreal,’ said my mam.

‘It is bloody barmy. I still don’t understand why it’s happening to me but I suppose there’s no point in over-analysing it. Best to just bloody enjoy it.’

The lovely Josh who was our Disney tour guide showed the family off to their seats, along with my old dance teacher Joan Martin (she was over in Florida by chance and I was delighted at the thought she could come and watch some of my moves).

‘Enjoy the show!’ I shouted. After getting my hair and make-up done I was escorted to the back of the stage. The crowd was huge. We were not expecting this; it was like the whole of Disney World had stopped to watch our show. We had Christina Ricci (I know, another childhood memory of The Addams Family and Casper the Friendly Ghost) as our guest announcer, CeeLo Green singing ‘Forget You’ and Cat Deeley (another one of my childhood legends – remember SM:tv Live with Chums and Wonkey Donkey?) as the thief who stole the missing crown jewels.

Now I