Chapter 9
1440 Words
ARIA
The night felt colder than yesterday, although the air hadn't changed. What had changed was me, or maybe the way disappointment settled inside my chest. Each step I took away from the studio made the heaviness in my legs grow denser until even the street lights looked dimmer around me. I walked with my hands tucked into my coat, head bowed, trying not to think about the way Rose Miller refused to give me even a single chance.
I passed rows of shops with bright windows filled with beautiful products, people laughing inside, workers arranging displays and customers talking. All of it looked far away like a world separated from me by a glass wall. I tried not to feel small. I tried not to feel like someone who had bitten off more than she could chew. I kept walking. My boots tapped rhythmically on the pavement, steady and slow.
As I approached a busy intersection, noise burst ahead—reporters crowding a restaurant, sweeping microphones forward, cameras flashing. Some of them practically leaned over each other in excitement, and a few fans waved their phones in the air.
I hesitated for one second. It was instinctive, a quick glance to see what celebrity had drawn such attention. I lifted my head slightly, scanning the crowd, but from where I stood, I couldn't see anything beyond the wall of flashing lights and the eager shooting.
Whatever it was, I wasn't in the mood to care. My chest felt too hollow and too tight for curiosity. I continued walking.
By the time I reached my street, the noise had long faded behind me. The road was quiet, lined with small houses and dim porch lights. When I came closer to my apartment building, I paused automatically and looked at the parking space beside it.
Luca's car wasn't there.
His windows were dark, completely unlit.
A strange tug pulled in my chest, something between relief and disappointment. "He must still be out," I murmured, letting my eyes drift to his dark porch. "Or maybe he isn't home tonight."
I didn't know why I was wondering about his schedule. But the thought lingered longer than it should have.
I climbed the stairs to my apartment, unlocked the door, and shut it behind me. Immediately, a small meow greeted me. The tiny cat trotted toward me, tail high, and eyes bright as if I had been gone for weeks.
I bent and scooped it into my arms. "At least someone is happy to see me," I whispered. The cat purred loudly as I held it close, rubbing its head against my chin.
I set it down gently and walked into the kitchen. I didn't have the strength to cook anything elaborate, so I cracked an egg into a pan and watched it sizzle. The smell filled the quiet space. I sat at the table in front of me, tapped my arm lightly, and whispered to myself, "It's okay, Aria. You always knew the human world wasn't going to be easy. You are not giving up now. You haven't even started."
The encouragement felt thin, but I said it again, firmer this time. "You're not giving up."
My gaze drifted to the open window across from me. The night lights of Aveline Coast shimmered like scattered diamonds, blinking across the tall buildings and stretching endlessly into the dark horizon.
My throat tightened. "What would you do if you were in my position, Adrian?" I asked softly into the air. The silence that followed was deep and almost comforting.
I closed my eyes and imagined him, his warm laugh, his calm confidence, and the way he always made people feel steady. I could almost hear him gentle but firm, telling me that he would never give up. That he would keep trying because he knew he was capable, and nobody could take that from him.
I opened my eyes slowly. "You always made things sound easy," I whispered.
I stabbed the egg with my fork, took a bite, swallowed, and forced myself to finish the meal. When I was done, I washed the plate and cup, scrubbed the pan, and set everything neatly on the drying rack. Exhaustion sank deeply into my bones, spreading slowly until it reached my fingertips.
I took a long shower and stepped out, feeling slightly lighter. The moment my body touched the mattress, I sank into it fully. I stared at the ceiling and whispered one last time, "I'm exhausted... but I'm not giving up."
I reached for my phone, set the alarm for 5:00 am, placed it beside my pillow, and let sleep pull me under.
-----
The alarm ripped through the silence right on time. I jolted up instantly, heart pounding, sleep still clinging to me. But I moved quickly. I showered, dressed, packed my makeup kit, tied my shoes, and brushed my hair. One breath. One step. One determination.
By 7:00 a.m., I was standing outside Rose Miller's studio.
The street was quiet. The morning air was crisp and clean, brushing against my cheeks. The world still felt asleep. My heart, however, was wide awake, thuding fast, loud, and clear.
The receptionist arrived first. She stopped a little when she saw me waiting by the door. "You are early."
"Yes," I said simply. "I want to prove myself to Miss Miller. I don't want her to think I'm careless or unserious."
The receptionist's face softened into a small smile. "That's good. Come in. Let's get inside."
She unlocked the door, and we walked in together. The studio smelled clean, with hints of perfume and makeup powder. Chairs were neatly arranged, mirrors spotless, and the whole place still quiet before the morning rush.
One by one, the other employees arrived. Soon after, two mentees walked in, one girl with bouncing curls named Benny and her friend, a slender guy with a warm smile.
Benny tapped her friend and nodded toward me before walking up. "Hey, weren't you here yesterday?" She asked in a friendly tone.
"Yes," I replied. "I'm Aria."
Her friend smiled. "Welcome. We didn't see you inside yesterday. Everything okay?"
I exhaled softly. "I came late. Miss Miller refused to attend to me. I was sent away."
Benny's face softened with sympathy. "Oh no... that's rough. But don't worry too much. She looks scary, but she isn't as hard as people think. She just hates lateness. And mistakes. And excuses. But she softens later."
Her friend nodded enthusiastically. "She does. She trained me last year during a live demo and I almost cried, but she bought me lunch the next day."
"Really?" I asked.
"Really," he said with a bright grin.
They waved playfully as they walked deeper into the studio. "Good luck!" Benny called.
I smiled weakly and sat on one of the waiting chairs. My heart pushed against my ribs with every passing minute.
At exactly 7:30, the studio door swung open.
Rose Miller walked in.
Her heels clicked sharply against the floor, her posture tall and regal, her expression unreadable. She scanned the room with the authority of someone who had built every inch of her career brick by brick.
Her gaze landed on me, and she stopped walking.
"What are you doing here?" She asked.
Before I could speak, she turned slightly toward the receptionist. "Why is she inside the studio?"
The receptionist parted her lips, ready to answer, but I stood up quickly.
"I am here to prove myself, ma," I said, stepping directly in front of her. "I came early. I will come early every day if that's what it takes. I am sorry for yesterday. It won't happen again. But I am not leaving until you give me a chance."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, assessing me from head to toe. Her expression remained cold.
"Well," she said calmly, "then you are going to wait for a long time."
She walked right past me and entered into her office, closing the door behind her with a soft click that felt louder than it should have.
I sat back down slowly.
An hour passed. Then two.
People moved around me, working, chatting, practicing, but I stayed right there, waiting. My fingers trembled slightly, but I clasped them tightly so it wouldn't show.
Finally, the office door opened. Rose stepped out halfway and looked at the receptionist. "Can I see you?"
The receptionist nodded and went inside.
I held my breath the entire time.
Five minutes later, the receptionist stepped out, walked toward me, and stopped in front of me, smiling softly.
"Aria..." She said gently, "Rose Miller will see you now."
- Writer
