THE RED CARPET

"The most beautiful things are not associated with money; they are memories and moments..." - Alek Wek

The big Awards Show was happening tonight. A spectacular and dazzling event that was sure to be one of the highlights of the year. The women would be wearing the finest dresses from the world's top designers, accessorised with the most exquisite jewellery. The men would be in elegant tuxedos and bow ties, with perfectly coiffured hair. And the red carpet would be rolled out all the way down to the street, so no one's feet had to touch anything but opulence from the moment they stepped out of their chauffeur-driven cars.

It was an over the top display of glamour. Of success and excess. It was a dream and a fantasy, that for a few short hours, would coalesce into something real and tangible that everyone watching at home could feel a part of.

But we had arrived too early.

The adoring public had begun to assemble, but the press didn't even have their equipment fully set up properly yet and clearly weren't ready to grab a usable interview or photograph, so I told my driver to bring us back in half an hour.

They'd be ready for my grand arrival by then.

As we approached the Award Show venue for the second time, it was obvious immediately that something was wrong.

What we pulled up outside of was a dilapidated and derelict theatre. Unused and unloved. There was no adulation from the crowd and no press waiting for us and when I stepped out of the car there was nothing but concrete under my shoes.

No red carpet.

"They haven't held the ceremony here for years", said someone, as they got out of the driver's seat behind me and began walking around the car to where I was standing, "But the doctors said this would probably be one of the last memories you hold on to. You felt safe here, surrounded by your friends and peers. I think that's why you keep asking to come back."

The theatre looked familiar, but whatever elegance it had once had was so tarnished and faded it was almost unrecognisable.

"Do you remember what they used to lay down on those special nights, all the way out into the street?"

"Red carpet", I said, my words cracking and filled with emotion.

"Yes, that's right!" the voice said, soothingly, "And when you were walking on it, you were all anyone could talk about."

I smiled, breathing in the memory of something long forgotten that was hanging in the air all around us.

And if I closed my eyes tight enough, I could almost hear the roar of the crowd and see the flashbulbs going off all around me. I could picture hands holding autograph books right there within touching distance, and my hand signing them more times than I could count while wired microphones were thrust towards me and journalists asked me questions about what it would feel like to win.

If I just closed my eyes, for a moment, I was back there again.

Back on the red carpet...