More than Fashion

16

Carla and I rushed out of the room behind Gavin and his Valkyrie model, the other designers and models right on our heels. It was a mob of little black dresses as we went down to the first floor in groups on the elevator, then followed Kelsey into the backstage area behind the runway.

She had a list of what order our models would walk in, and we had five minutes to do any last minute touch-ups before the show began. I did one final check of my dress, but there was nothing more to do. The dress was done. As much as I wanted to rewind the day and go back to last night, to stop myself from ever having a drink or taking Gavin back to my room, time travel didn’t exist. I had to live with my bad mistakes and accept the consequences of them.

For the first time, I allowed myself a second to look around the room and take in what the other designers had created. Molly had made a high-necked babydoll dress using the brocade I’d given her. It looked a little dated or stuffy, but it was well-made and flattering on her model. Trina’s model wore a short velvet dress designed to look like a man’s suit jacket, but with a plunging neckline and high hemline. It was a bit stiff, but very sexy. I didn’t think either of them would win, but they definitely wouldn’t be going home either.

Gavin’s dress stood out from the others, even off the runway. He’d made a structured V-neck dress, but he’d used the mesh to overlay different areas on the bodice and skirt, creating his own geometric pattern that only enhanced her shape. It was subtle and deceptively simple, but when she walked, the mesh caught the light and showed how intricate the work was.

I hated to admit it, but he was good. No, really good. Which meant he was going to be on the show for a while. Dammit.

Before I could check out the rest, the designers were sent to wait in the backstage lounge while the models did test runs, which consisted of walking up and down the runway while the crew checked the cameras and lighting. I crashed on the couch next to Trina.

“Thanks for waking me. If you hadn’t…” I shook my head, the thought too much to even consider.

“No problem. Sucks that you lost so much time.”

“I can’t believe everyone else just let me sleep.”

“I can. We have to look out for ourselves first.” She shrugged. “Or maybe they thought you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Still a jerk thing to do,” I muttered. I understood her point though. If the tables were turned, if another designer had been passed out while I was awake, would I have woken them? Or would I have thought it was their loss and considered it not my problem? And maybe been a little happy because their lack of time might get them kicked off instead of me?

I honestly didn’t know the answer.

“You should really thank that English guy,” Trina said. “He was the one who noticed you’d been gone a while.”

“I will.” Ugh, thanking Gavin was just about the last thing I wanted to do.

I must have made a face because Trina laughed. “I get the feeling you don’t like him.”

My eyes found him easily. He stood across the room talking to Tom, leaning against the wall and looking effortlessly sexy. Damn him.

“No. I don’t know. He…bugs me.”

“Oh yeah?” She turned and glanced at him in a super obvious way.

“Don’t look at him!”

She did a snort-laugh and turned back to me. “Eh, he seems decent enough. And not bad looking. For a guy, anyway.”

I gestured, trying to find the right words without giving away our secret history. “He seems kind of…full of himself.”

“Pretty boys usually are.”

When Kelsey returned and took us to the runway room, all the designers oohed and aahed. It looked like a theater and was dark except for a long, raised runway that ran down the middle of the space, with lights shining on it. Chairs had been set up on either side of it—fourteen on one, four on the other—and around them, more cameras.

Kelsey directed us to take our seats. I was in the front row, with Gavin directly behind me. My stomach twisted, nerves jumping under my skin, both excited and terrified to see my dress walk down the runway. It was my dream, especially after watching the show for so many years, but now that I was here—and even worse, maybe going home for my stupid dress—I just wanted to throw up. Or maybe that was a lingering effect of my hangover.

Once we were all in place, Kelsey disappeared. We waited for many long minutes with only the sound of people fidgeting in their seats, all too aware we were being filmed. Finally, the judges walked in and took their seats on the other side of the runway. It was tough not to fangirl a little over them—I’d watched them on TV before so many times and now they were about to watch my look walk down the runway.

First was Italian designer Ricardo Romano, with his thinning salt-and-pepper hair, wearing one of his own fashionable gray suits with a sky blue shirt. He was one of the original judges on the show and taught a few classes at Parsons on the side. He tended to give constructive feedback, but was a bit more conservative than the other designers. His label had been dying a slow death until he joined the show, and now his clothes were popular with the older viewers.

Ricardo was followed by Beverly Payton, the editor-in-chief at Charmed, one of the premier fashion magazines in the world. She had wispy blond hair done up in a bun and always wore bright red lipstick. She was widely respected as a fashion trend maker and had been on the show since the second season. During her critiques, she could be sort of overbearing but had a great eye.