THE SPONSOR
438 Words
"Mira, it sounds incredible. But... a competition like that?
The materials, the models, the entry fees alone? It costs a fortune just to qualify." "She said.
"I know, I know. But we don’t need to worry about the logistics yet. We just need a sponsor
someone with the capital and the connections to back us.
Once we have a name behind us, the prestige will follow. Think of it, Rose: your name on the runway, your designs in the magazines."Mira said.
Rose looked around her cramped shop. She thought of the sketches hidden in her drawer—daring, intricate designs she’d been too afraid to actually sew. She wanted this. She wanted it so badly it ached. But the word "sponsor" tasted like ash. It meant owing someone. It meant stepping into a world where she was an asset rather than an artist.
"A sponsor, Mira? Who would sponsor a small-town designer? Someone like that... they’d want a say in the designs. They’d want to own the creative process."
"Not if we pick the right one. We just need someone who sees the vision.
Maybe we reach out to those venture capital firms in the city, or—"
Rose’s eyes involuntarily flickered to her phone, where that notification from Alexander still sat, unopened. The coincidence felt almost suffocating. He was a billionaire, a man who built empires by spotting value where others saw nothing. The thought was dangerous and irrational, and yet, it was there.
"forcing herself to look away from the phone. "I’ll think about it, Mira. I really will. But I need to be careful. I don’t want to be someone’s project."
"You’re not a project. You’re an artist. And you’re going to be a star. Just... promise me you’ll keep an open mind about the funding."
After the call ended, the shop felt larger, emptier. Rose finally picked up her phone. Her thumb hovered over the notification—a message from an unknown number that she had been dreading and longing for in equal measure. She tapped it open.
“I find that tea tastes much better when shared. I’m in the area. Would you be opposed to another conversation, Rose?”
It wasn't a request for a date. It was a request for proximity. Rose felt a shiver run down her spine. The timing was impossible, yet here it was. She looked at the stacks of unfinished work that represented her dreams and then at the screen that offered a shortcut to the world she desperately wanted to conquer.
but she decided to ignore it.
- Writer
