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Being watched Cerys Alexander sat at the news desk smiling as the floor producer counted down. Her golden hair tied back and sitting perfectly, her make up glamorous but not over done and her plain pink blouse looking smart but comfortable on camera. Cerys had worked hard to get where she was today and was well admired and popular. For many she was the familiar face every night at 6pm on BBC1 though her background had been in many local channels before that. Natural, professional and calm under pressure she read the news and anchored the programme flawlessly. The schedule was all set, research completed and pre-recorded pieces all ready. Today there were no studio guests lined up, no video interviews with politicians or highly qualified advisors and just one live outside with the political correspondent outside the prime minister’s house. Cerys was due live for just 30 minutes which was perfect after having had a few mugs of coffee earlier and what with make up and set up she hadn’t even thought to go to the bathroom. Half an hour was nothing though. Anyone could hold that long without people realising. But as the producer counted down...5....4....3...2....a frantic buzz began which Cerys ignored as best as possible so she could appear on screen cool, calm and professional. As she began ‘Good evening and welcome to the news at 6 on Monday 19th July with me, Cerys Alexander. Coming up we look at the latest cabinet reshuffle with our live political correspondent Martin Forest who is outside 10 Downing Street, we report on the announcement this morning by the Bank of England that interest rates have fallen to their lowest level in 20 years and our sports correspondent gives an update on the start of the first season after Conoravirus. Stay with us as we go live right now to Martin in London for the latest...good evening Martin...there definitely appears to be a lot going on where you are...’ Whilst live footage moved temporarily over to Martin Cerys was immediately briefed on the breaking news as she spun between Martin talking live and the hive of activity in the studio. Immediately Cerys sensed something huge was happening as editors grappled with an ever changing programme schedule as suddenly the world changed before her eyes. Cerys thrived on the adrenaline, immediately forgetting her bladder and concentrating immediately on the breaking story of the sudden resignation of the prime minister. She watched Martin, listening intently as he spoke live from the Prime Minster’s residence as cameras flashed and the front door opened. This was the sort of thing she was trained for and could be the making of her own career, ironically as the head of the country ended his. Ten minutes later and still she was live to Martin as they beamed the live speech of the Prime Minister across the nation and world. Rating were soaring and the schedule was ditched as Cerys heard the producer say through her ear piece that Cerys was to keep anchoring live for as long as necessary. Off camera a floor runner placed a large glass of water on her table and Cerys sipped at it while Martin spoke. If she was going to be live on air for quite some time she couldn’t have a dry mouth! Half an hour passed and Cerys continued to hold the fort as the impact of the announcement filtered through to every reporter imaginable and every country. It was the dream of newsreaders around the world to be the one in her position and she intended to showcase her skills and professionalism as much as possible whilst not in any way detracting from the story at hand. She should have been off camera ten minutes ago but right now there was no end to how long she would be here without a break. Immediately more correspondents in the studio had make up rushed on and Cerys was told Fergus would join her at the table. Fergus, an older, traditional gent who had never worked for any other channel but the BBC, loved his own opinion and Cerys had constant voices in her ear telling her to stop him talking, switch back to Martin and read out from the teleprompter which was being professionally updated from the control room. ‘For anyone just joining us here on BBC1 this is a live extended news bulletin and I am Cerys Alexander with breaking news that the Prime Minister, Boris Johnston has tonight resigned with immediate effect on the day his cabinet was reshuffled. In his live statement he said earlier that his position was no longer tenable after three cabinet ministers resigned within half an hour over negotiations around Brexit. He stated he will leave number 11 Downing Street where he resides with his partner and young son this evening and Dominic Raab will be the new Prime Minister until a full leadership contest is complete. Here is Robert Fleming with more details...’ Cerys took a deep breath as her teleprompter undated continually. She sipped some more water and shuffled on her seat quite aware she would really benefit from a break to visit the bathroom but absolutely aware this couldn’t happen. She crossed her ankles under the table and continued on as a live TV screen showing what viewers at home saw had a continuous chyron across the bottom of the screen updating viewers with the breaking news story and alerting them to the changed schedule. Cerys clenched her muscles tight wishing she’d thought to use the toilet hours ago when she first felt a tingle. Now she couldn’t go as she was being watched live by millions worldwide yet her bladder hadn’t got the memo and was pressing for relief. Shifting on her seat again she slipped a hand under the table as Fergus checked his laptop, presumably to get some more facts to talk about as soon as he was allowed. Checking no-one was watching Cerys pressed between the legs of her smart grey trousers as the urge to get off set and use the toilet became stronger and stronger. Suddenly the cameras were back on her as a live interview was set up via video with a well known political journalist. On the surface Cerys was cool, smart, calm and asking all the right questions, meanwhile beneath the table her thighs rubbed together and her legs tensed as Cerys fought strongly against her own bladder which was full to bursting. She’d been live for 50 minutes and it was taking its toll on her body. A voice through her earpiece said there were 10 minutes remaining and Cerys willed her muscles to hold on til then. As the journalist answered another leading question Cerys pressed her bottom tight against the back of the firm seat and leaned a little forwards, her body almost cramping in its need for release. She tapped her foot and squeezed every muscle available as Fergus rudely interrupted the journalist and tried to correct him. The camera turned to Fergus and Cerys slipped a hand between her legs quickly as she felt a dribble in her underwear. It was an honour and privilege to be the live anchor on the biggest UK TV channel during a breaking news story but Cerys was getting worried as her bladder pulled steadily and her urethra drummed harshly between her legs. The constant tingling was distracting but leaving the seat could cost her her career. She shuffled yet again, getting less and less confident of her ability to hold on. Cerys was getting a barrage of noise in her ear as the producer prompted her to take charge but as she did so she mispronounced a key name as her body sweat in the effort not to pee. Turning red she quickly corrected herself and apologised live as the camera focussed on her face whilst beneath the table, between her legs, her crotch continued to dampen. Cerys knew she was in danger as a time check in her ear told her she had five more minutes live. If she could just hold her bladder that bit longer. Reminding the viewers once again of the breaking news story Cerys tried to stay composed and relaxed despite the war between her legs. Time was getting nearer as she drew the extended news bulletin to a slow close reminding the public who was now in charge of the country and listing all the key government members who had resigned too. Meanwhile Cerys resigned herself to the fact she wasn’t going to make it as a long steady flow of urine ran down the inside of her smart grey trousers. Continuing to close off her bladder gave up completely as Cerys smiled and read her teleprompter as if nothing was happening. The theme tune of the news rang out as Fergus launched into a monologue of how he’d seen this coming but no one had listened and how he hadn’t been given long enough to talk. The producer thankfully intervened, coming over towards Cerys and congratulating her on a great live performance. ‘You held it together so professionally Cerys. That was tense, tiring, thrilling and I bet you need a coffee now...I know I do! The 24 news crew will be all over this one tonight. Well done girl! You did us proud!’ Cerys blushed. She waited until he left and, with Fergus still at the desk on his laptop and the camera crew talking among themselves, she stood up feeling her trousers clinging to her legs and knowing immediately that her wetting would be obvious she pretended nothing was amiss as she confidently walked off set and to the ladies where she somehow managed to pee more again before using the hand dryer to dry her trousers and finishing her shift. A night which defined her career would be remembered by many for the political embarrassments but for Cerys it would always be her own embarrassment that would define the moment. Unfortunately there’s not much even a professional young career woman can do when she can’t pee due to being watched. There really is only so long a bladder can wait, even live on TV.