From Strip lights to Spotlights

(SOPHIA’S POV) Today my workplace was particularly chaotic. My fingers were working methodically over the delicate hem of an evening gown, but my heart was hardly on what I was doing. I could feel the tension spreading from the back of my neck to my limbs. The chatter of the other apprentices outside faded into the background as I focused on each stitch. Moments into this, the door to the room I was in slammed open, making me vibrate nervously for a second while still keeping my head on what I was doing. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. It was none other than Mrs. Eliza Hart…my boss. Her presence was unmistakable, like a sudden storm on an otherwise steady afternoon. “Renard,” she barked, her voice as sharp as a naked blade. And the sound of it made me look up, an act I instantly regretted. Her small, bird-like eyes met my own. Her mouth twisted into that familiar sneer that always made me feel smaller than I already was. It was also then I realized she wasn't alone. Behind her were about two of my colleagues, Clara and Ruth, their faces holding in their amusement. I quickly looked down again, pretending to focus on my work. My hands were steady, but the sweat on my forehead betrayed my anxiety. Mrs Hart was still standing in the same way, watching me like a hawk eyeing a cornered mouse. I could feel her scowl even without looking. “What is that supposed to be?” she sneered, observing what I was working on. I hesitated, unsure if she expected an answer or just wanted to belittle me. Before I could decide, she continued, waving a dismissive hand at my work. “Just look at that…the hem is a disaster waiting to happen. Honestly, I don’t know why I still keep you around here.” Clara and Ruth exchanged amused glances behind her, their muffled giggles making my ears burn. Mrs. Hart turned sharply after that as if on her way to leave, but then again, something made her stop halfway, pivoting back to face me for the second time. Her expression was colder now, her lips pursed tightly. “And another thing,” She added. “You were late this morning.” I gasped quickly, opening my mouth to respond, my pulse quickening. But she instantly raised one hand to silence me, ignored me and pressed on, my words full of desperation. “Mrs. Hart, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. It’s just... we had an issue with the homeowner this morning, and…and” Her hand came down sharply, slicing through my words. “Spare me the excuses dummy,” she snapped. “I don’t care about your little dramas. You’re here to work, not to waste my time.” My eyes felt salty as I bit back the rest of my explanation. Without another word, she made a final turn and marched out, slamming the door so hard in our faces. For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of my uneven breathing. The silence was eventually broken as Clara stepped forward mockingly to mimic me. “‘We had an issue with the homeowner,’” Her tone was high-pitched and nasal. Ruth let out a short laugh and joined in. “Oh, Sophia, always the tragic little heroine. Do you ever stop whining?” Their jeering was biting enough, but I tried to focus on my stitching, my fingers trembling slightly as I worked. “Just leave me alone,” I muttered weakly. But my silence only seemed to encourage them. “You know,” Clara continued nonetheless. “It’s funny how you think you’ll ever make it as a designer. Do you honestly believe anyone would wear your creations?” I gritted my teeth, holding tight to my needle. “And that family of yours,” Ruth added, leaning closer. “Do they even know what a decent meal looks like?” That was the final straw. I flung my head up. “Say what you want about me, but leave my family out of it.” Ruth smirked, unfazed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hit a nerve?” Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I dropped the fabric and rose to my full height. My hand swung before I even realized what I was doing, landing a sharp slap across Ruth’s cheek. The sound echoed in the room, and was instantly followed by a stunned silence. Clara gasped, her hand flying into her mouth. Ruth staggered about slightly, her face dazed, pressing one of her palms against her reddening cheek. For a moment, I thought that might be the end of it. But then she did not hesitate to lung at me right after, her nails aiming for my face. We collided, pushing and shoving ourselves. Clara jumped in, trying to pull us apart, but only managed to escalate the tussle. As the struggle got more intense, I heard the sound of fabric tearing. My heart thumped. We all froze, panting and slowly regaining our senses, our eyes darting towards the ruined gown on the table. The torn edges of the fabric seemed to mock us, a silent witness to our stupidity. And then, as if it had been planned, what followed next was the sound of approaching footsteps. Mrs. Hart was coming and she was calling my name. “Sophia!” My heart plummeted further. I stood frozen, my chest heaving, as the door swung open. What was I going to do now? What would I tell her? There was only little time left. I barely had time to catch my breath when we saw the door handle moving forcefully. She was trying to open the door from the outside. It looked like the door had jammed after she had slammed it so hard the first time. My heart leaped, and I jolted in place. Without thinking, I dashed forward, my trembling hands hurriedly snatching the fabric. My fingers fumbled at first with it as I tried to fold it over and tuck it under a pile of unfinished work. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clara and Ruth frozen, their faces pale, their eyes wide. Neither of them moved or tried to help me. They just stood there, rooted in place, watching like statues as I scrambled for my life. Finally, the door got pushed open with a force that made me almost scream. I spun around, clutching the hidden fabric behind me. Standing there, framed by the doorway, was the bewildered figure of Mrs. Hart. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, narrowing as they settled on me. A puzzled frown pushed her lips out, and for a moment, the silence was suffocating. “What is going on here? And why did no one help out when I tried opening the door?”