{CHICAGO} 12 PM
The sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Yulia’s studio, casting soft gold on the paint-smeared floor.
She sat hunched over her sketch board, the tip of her brush gliding across the paper in confident strokes. Every line brought the gown to life, a piece of art she had already imagined draped on a runway.
Sketching, painting, designing gowns was her talent, not modelling. She only had passion for it because of Thalia. She has this inferior complex when it comes to Thalia, she always wanted to do what she's doing.
Modelling had always been Thalia’s stage, not hers. But because her sister could catwalk and shine, Yulia had once forced herself to compete in that same world, chasing a spotlight that never fit her. The memory stung, but she shrugged it off.
Thos
