Chapter 4 THE FASHION SHOW

The evening of the fashion show had finally arrived, and everything was in place. After I briefly went over everything with the senior Mr. Virelli, I headed home to get changed. I spent so much time trying to find the perfect outfit but in the end, I just pulled an old dress from my closet and after multiple attempts to tame my tangled hair with a brush, I eventually gave up and swept it into a neat bun. A bit of lip gloss, and I was ready to head out.

The drive was calm and I played some slow songs, lip syncing to them as I drove. Then out of nowhere a vehicle zoomed past me, taking my focus. "Watch where yo-" my words froze as the car lost control and crashed. I slammed my feet on the brakes, making my car come to a screeching to a halt.

I jumped out and ran to the car. "Hello?" I called, my voice was filled with panic. The windshield was shattered, it glittered with cracks.

A hissing sound escaped from the bonnet, and smoke went into the night sky. My nose caught the blended smell of burning oil and something unplaceable sharp and bitter but there were no flames in sight. My brows furrowed.

With urgency, I yanked at the door handle it resisted at first, then gave way with a loud creak. The driver laid slumped forward, her face resting against the airbag which had already deflated. I immediately remembered what I'd learned during an emergency seminar years ago, I reached out and checked for a pulse. It was Steady. Relieved, I leaned in.

"Lady, are you okay?" I asked.

She let out a soft groan, wincing as one hand reached up to a growing bruise on her forehead. I didn't wait, immediately, I called the police. It wasn't long before the loud sounds of sirens wailing cut through the evening quiet and an ambulance pulled up. I stayed close to her, trailing behind as they rushed her off. I wasn't comfortable leaving her. I had to know she would be alright.

The hospital held memories for me, I didn't want to be there. As I walked through the sterile floor, I swallowed down the bad memories.

As I sat beside her, watching the nurse stitch through her skin with quiet precision, I asked gently, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine... thank you so much for saving me, ma'am," she replied with a polite smile.

Something about the ma'am stung a little like it sounded like I was years older than her. She looked about my age. I shook it off

"You're welcome," I said, settling into the seat next to hers.

After a pause, I added jokingly, "Any reason you were driving like you were auditioning for Fast & Furious?"

She let out a slow sigh. "There's... a lot going on."

I nodded. "I get it. Life can be a lot."

We sat in silence after that. Not the tense or uncomfortable kind.

She finally spoke, her voice small but steady. "I keep letting people down. My boyfriend broke up with me because I'm a failure." Her laugh was flat, the kind that doesn't reach the eyes. She leaned back as she shut her eyes tightly.

"Don't say that."

My fingers twitched, a reflex to hug her but I hesitated. We were strangers. I didn't want to cross any line.

"You don't know me," she added quickly.

"Oh." I paused. "I'm sorry... I just-" She exhaled deeply.

"I may not know you but I relate to you on the boyfriend part, they are definitely not worth your life, move on and you'll find peace" I said, with quick realization that I should probably take my own advice.

Before I could finish that thought, my phone buzzed once, then again, then a continuous set of vibrations. I glanced down. Messages from Mr. Virelli. Jillian. Alexander. The show had already started.

Damn it.

I stood, collecting my thoughts and my composure. "I don't know everything you're going through," I said, voice firm but kind, "but whatever it is, it's not worth your life."

She didn't respond, but her eyes followed me as I turned to leave.

With one last look over my shoulder, I stepped out into the cool night air and headed toward my car. My heels clicked briskly on the pavement, echoing the urgency in my chest. The fashion show was already almost halfway.

I drove as fast as I could, and by the time I arrived, the show was already halfway through.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Linda said with a wicked grin. Marco had an arm wrapped around her, he looked at me as if he was expecting some reply.

I let out a sigh and kept walking, not giving her the satisfaction of a reply. I headed straight backstage to find Jillian.

"What happened to you? I've been calling!" she exclaimed, frazzled and on edge. Jillian darted between models, double-checking that each one was dressed correctly, or if their make up was good enough every thread had to be flawless.

One thing I'd come to understand about fashion shows: no matter how thorough the planning, there was always a moment backstage when everything dangled on the edge of chaos. The designer would be stressed and confused, desperate to make sure everything was perfect, while the audience sat calmly, blissfully unaware of the storm that was behind the scenes.

"I'm sorry there was an accident," I said, a little out of breath.

Jillian's eyes narrowed as she pointed to a faint stain on my dress. "Is that... blood? Are you okay?"

I looked down, barely noticing it until now. The smudge must've come from when I'd pulled the girl out of the wreckage.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm fine. It's not mine."

Jillian let out a sigh, then swiftly moved to the rack, selecting a scarf in the same shade as my dress. "Take this," she said, wrapping it around me with quick precision, covering the stain from view. It wasn't glamorous, but it worked.

I slipped into the audience and sank into the seat beside Mr. Virelli, acutely aware of every turned head and whisper that trailed me. I hated the attention.

"Where were you?" he asked, voice low yet firm.

"Sorry," was all I could manage, eyes fixed on the runway, heart still catching up with everything that had happened.

The applause was thunderous, and I couldn't help but smile as Jillian took her well deserved bow, she was glowing beneath the spotlight. The chaos and pressure of backstage was a long gone memory now it had all come together beautifully.

I spotted Alexander a few times, always at the centre of some crowd. Cameras flashed, hands were shaken, champagne flutes clinked. I wanted to speak to him, to share in the moment, but I held back. He seemed untouchable in the sea of admirers; it was his night.

As the crowd began to thin for the after-party, I made my way over to the broad-shouldered man seated in the corner. "Preevyet, Ivan," I greeted.

He gave a pleased nod. "Ah, you worked on your pronunciation well done. How are you, Vee?"

"Exhausted, but I'll survive," I replied with a shrug, settling into the seat beside him. "And you?"

"I'm happy," he said, his gaze fixed on Jillian as she chatted animatedly with a group across the room, his face lit up with a smile. "It's big night."

"She's been planning it for months," I noted.

"It's not just that," he added, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a small ring box.

I gasped, eyes wide, quickly clapping a hand over my mouth.

"She loves green," I said, eyeing the large emerald stone flanked by dainty pink gems.

Ivan nodded, his voice low. "Da... I'll surprise her at dinner tonight."

"She'll love it."

"You think so?" he asked, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Absolutely."

He quickly tucked the ring box back into his pocket just as she approached.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," she said, giving him a quick kiss.

"Eh, I don't mind," he murmured, pulling her onto his lap with ease.

"Come to the after-party with me?" she asked.

"Actually..." He glanced at me, then turned back to her. "I was thinking... dinner. At that French place you like."

She blinked. "We don't have a reservation."

"I made one," he said, a small grin tugging at his lips.

"But the party-"

"Another After-party will be there tomorrow, no?" he shrugged.

I chimed in, "Go with him, Jilly. Enjoy the night."

She sighed, a little smile creeping in. "Fine. Though you're awfully cheerful for someone who was in an accident."

I chuckled, tossing her a wink. "Can't help it. I just love love."

I was too exhausted to make it to the after-party that night, yet I found myself staying up, hoping Jillian would post a photo of the engagement. I was half-asleep when my phone rang.

"You knew!" she exclaimed.

"I did," I laughed. "Congratulations, Jillian."

"Thank you, my love. We'll talk more later, take care, okay?"

We said our goodbyes, and for the first time in a long while, I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face.