More than Fashion

21

In fact, it was almost…soothing. Being surrounded by others hard at work, who loved fashion and designing clothes as much as I did. Even though they were my competition, I felt a kinship with them. We were creators chasing after a shared dream. We all wanted the same thing: to win.

***

The first day of the challenge went by in a blur of dying and sewing, and by the time we were sent back to the Loft, I was exhausted. Most of the designers, including me, crashed immediately, knowing we’d have to get up early to finish our dresses before the runway show.

The next morning, the models arrived only an hour after we’d started working, but luckily my dress was almost done. I’d dyed the silk fabric the day before and let it dry overnight, giving it a beautiful ombré effect: snow white at the top, flowing into a soft blue and pink below the waist, swirling into lavender at the knee, then darkening until the bottom hem was completely black. The dress was lush and magical, and there was no way I’d be in the bottom this time. I might even make it into the top three.

“Are you feeling any better?” Carla asked me while she undressed. I hadn’t seen her since the runway show. She was staying back at our original hotel with all the other models who didn’t live in New York, so I didn’t have any chance to chat with her outside of these moments.

I switched off my mic so we could talk freely. “Much. Although sleeping in a room with a bunch of other women sucks. Some of them snore like you wouldn’t believe. But hey, at least I’m not hungover anymore.”

“That’s good. I was worried about you.” Her eyes cut to Gavin, who was hunched over his table as he worked. As usual, he was impeccably dressed in a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and those jeans that fit his ass perfectly. “How are things with you-know-who?” she whispered.

“I’m trying to avoid him as much as possible and pretend he doesn’t exist.”

“How’s that working so far?”

“Not great,” I admitted with a sigh.

I helped her into the dress and stood back to inspect it. It was stunning, with the sweetheart neckline showing off her lovely chest and the colors contrasting nicely with her dark skin. The silk hugged her curves as it gradually flared into a trumpet silhouette, then pooled into darkness around her feet.

“Julie, it’s so beautiful.” Carla looked at herself in the mirror as I stuck a pin in the side of the dress. I’d made the strapless bodice a little too big and needed to bring it in near her underarms so her boobs wouldn’t pop out mid-runway show. “I want a dress like this when I get married someday.”

“As long as it’s not to Daryl,” I muttered under my breath. She’d been with her boyfriend for six months, but he was the absolute worst. He’d be possessive and controlling one minute, then act like they weren’t even together the next, yet Carla let him get away with it. Maddie—our other roommate back in LA—and I had told Carla to dump him a hundred times, but she never listened to us.

“I know you don’t like him, but he’s really not that bad,” she said, keeping her voice low so no one could hear us.

“No? How does he feel about you coming on the show?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Well, he’s not thrilled about it, but…”

Before I could answer, Lola swept into the room and we all froze. “Designers! I have another surprise for you!”

Uh oh. I gripped Carla’s hand. We only had a few hours to go; this could not be good.

“You have a dress for your bride…but what about her friends?” An evil smile danced on her red lips. “We want you to make a bridesmaid dress that goes with your wedding dress. We’ll give you an extra hour and one hundred dollars for fabric. Your additional models will be in shortly.”

She walked out, and the entire room seemed to groan at once, me along with them. The bridesmaid dress would have to be pretty simple if we only had an extra hour to do it.

“How am I supposed to make a second dress when I barely have time to finish this one?” I asked Carla, as I helped her take the wedding gown off.

“You’ll figure something out. You always do. Like that time when I ripped my dress at—” Her eyes widened when Nika and Derrick walked by, and she coughed. “Um…I better get to hair and makeup.”

“Good idea.” I didn’t think anyone had heard her, but she needed to be more careful. With competition as fierce as it was, I didn’t want any of the other designers to know our secret and try to use it against me somehow.

“Sorry,” she whispered as she walked away.

Once she was gone, I returned to the fabric room to buy more of the silk I’d used on the wedding dress. I had an idea for what to do, but I’d have to dye the fabric fast and pray it would be dry in time for the runway show. Maybe there was a hair dryer I could borrow somewhere.

When I got back, I found a note on my table, written in Gavin’s precise handwriting.

You two should be more careful. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out your secret. One of them, anyway.

Is that a threat? I wrote back, nearly ripping the paper with the rough, jagged strokes of my pencil.

Of course not, love. Just an observation.

My head snapped up, and I caught him watching me. Good. I ripped up his note in an exaggerated way, walked over to the trash, and tossed it inside. His eyes followed me the entire time, and I gave him a pointed look before returning to my table. Hopefully he got the hint that this conversation was over.

***