Noelle: Between Love and Desperation

A Desperate Move

It had been almost two weeks since Lorraine returned to Manila. The city’s noise and chaos barely registered as she sat in her sleek office on the 17th floor of Jaden Tower, the skyline stretching endlessly behind her. The faint hum of traffic rose from below, but inside, silence reigned—until a soft ping from her phone broke her thoughts.

“Ms. Lorraine,” Ivan’s voice came through, calm but eager. “Good news—we finally have a model confirmed for the Couture Fashion Week in Paris next month. But… we’re still short one female slot for the showcase. The client insists on top-tier talent only.”

Lorraine’s jaw tightened. She had been thinking about this for an entire week, weighing the risks. It was a desperate move, maybe even reckless—but if she didn’t act now, she might never get the chance she wanted. All or nothing. Her heart clenched at the thought of Ethan.

Without hesitation, she dialed Millie’s number, her voice calm and steady.

“Millie, this is Lorraine. Do you have time today? I need to tell you something important. Meet me at Jaden Tower, 17th floor.”

“Hi, Ms. Lorraine… uh, I’m actually in the middle of a wedding gown fitting,” Millie replied, her tone polite but uncertain. “But sure, I can meet you today.”

Lorraine’s expression softened, though her heart sank. It should be me choosing the gown… not her, she thought quietly.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you here,” she said, trying to steady her voice.

When Millie arrived, the room shifted. She wore a Chanel pink mini dress with matching flats, her silky hair framing a delicate face that seemed to glow under the office lights. Tall, graceful, undeniably stunning.

She is beautiful, Lorraine thought as her grey eyes studied the young woman. But I will not let that beauty take the man I love.

“Ms. Lorraine, thank you for seeing me,” Millie began, her voice polite but cautious.

Lorraine didn’t waste time. “I’ll be direct. Paris Couture Fashion Week has chosen our agency to send models. This is the biggest stage in fashion—Hollywood stars, global icons, world-renowned designers. And I have one last slot to fill. The contract is fifteen million pesos for just one year.”

Millie froze. Paris Couture, the dream she had chased for so long, was finally here!!

Her heart sank. Ethan. Their wedding. Could he ever forgive her?

“Ms. Lorraine, this is… unbelievable. But I’m getting married soon. Ethan won’t like it. He’ll be disappointed. And I love him. I can’t—”

Lorraine leaned forward, her voice sharp, her gaze cold.

“It’s one year, Millie. Not forever. If he truly loves you, he’ll wait. Marriage is forever—but opportunities like this don’t come twice. Once you’re a wife, a mother, things change. Your freedom, your time, even your body. You haven’t reached your peak yet. Do you really want to give it all up before you even get there?”

Millie’s lips trembled. She had no answer. Lorraine pressed the silence like a blade.

“You don’t need to decide now,” Lorraine continued. “You have forty-eight hours. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll give the slot to someone else. And don’t tell Ethan. He won’t see this the way you do. He’ll see it as a contract, not your dream. Don’t let him choose for you.”

Lorraine rose, her black Louis Vuitton halter dress hugging her flawless frame, her red lips set in a cold line. “Forty-eight hours, Millie. Don’t waste them.”

Her heels echoed against the polished floor as she walked away.

Millie sat frozen, her pulse thundering in her ears. Love or her dream—Ethan or Paris?

And Lorraine, behind her calm mask, prayed silently. Say yes, Millie. Go to Paris. Only then will you leave Ethan… and only then will I have another chance.

---

That evening, Lorraine picked up her phone and called Ivan.

“The last slot—I offered it to Millie Anne Jon. She’s considering it,” she said smoothly.

There was a pause. Then Ivan’s voice exploded with disbelief. “What?! Millie Anne Jon? Lorraine, are you serious? This is Couture Fashion Week in Paris! She’s engaged, untested, and she’s not even part of the couture circle! If she fails, we lose everything—our reputation, the client, the contract!”

Lorraine stayed quiet, her nails tapping against her desk.

Ivan pressed on. “Listen—if we need a name, I can call Singapore tonight. They have a pool of established couture models—women who’ve walked for Dior, Valentino, even Gaultier. Polished, professional, safe. The client would be thrilled. Why risk everything on Millie?”

Lorraine’s lips curved into the faintest smile. Her voice, however, was firm. “Because Millie has something those polished names don’t. She’s raw, fresh. The kind of presence that turns heads because she’s not like the others. This industry doesn’t just want perfection, Ivan—it craves novelty. And she’s it.”

“Novelty?” Ivan shot back. “Lorraine, this isn’t a magazine spread! This is Paris Couture! One misstep, one bad review, and we’re finished!”

Lorraine’s voice is lowered, silk laced with steel. “We won’t be. Millie has discipline. Potential. And timing is everything. We can’t afford to hesitate—we’ll lose the client. Millie stays. That’s final.”

There was silence on the line. At last, Ivan muttered reluctantly, “As you say, Lorraine.”

When the call ended, Lorraine leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the glittering skyline. Ivan thought this was about Paris, about fashion, about clients.

But Lorraine knew better.

Every decision I make leads me back to Ethan.

And with that, Lorraine allowed herself a rare smile.

The game had just begun.

Soon, Ethan will finally see who truly loves him, who truly belongs by his side, she thought, her heart pounding. It won’t be Millie… it has to be me—Lorraine Noelle Rivera. This is just the beginning of my plan.

“I love you, Ethan,” she whispered into the empty office room “I miss you more than anything. Every night, every morning, it’s always you.”