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He pulled out a chair for me, always the perfect gentleman, and poured us both a glass of wine. “Do you want to talk about your chat with your family?” he asked as he sat across from me. I sighed. I’d nearly forgotten about my conversation with my mom, but he just had to bring it up again. “Not really. It’s just the same old s**t as usual. My mom thinks I’m wasting my time here and should come home and apply to medical school, blah blah blah.” “Have you told her you don’t want to be a doctor?” “Not…exactly. I wanted to win the show first, to prove to her that it wasn’t just a hobby. But I don’t know if even that will make her think fashion design is a valid career.” He nodded. “My father never supported my decision to change my major from architecture to fashion. He said it was ‘gay’ a
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