The Walk
241 Words
*RILEY HARRINGTON'S POV*
The runway felt like fire under my feet.
Cameras flashed. Editors leaned forward.
I didn’t see them.
I saw the mirror in Wilden’s house. The one I used to stand in front of, pulling my hair back, making myself smaller so I wouldn’t outshine him.
I saw the taxi driver who told me I didn’t belong.
I saw Briana’s smirk.
I saw three years of “be quiet, be grateful, be less.”
And I walked faster.
Head high. Shoulders back. Chin up.
This wasn’t revenge. Revenge was small.
This was reclamation.
Every step shook off another piece of the girl who used to apologize for existing. The fabric moved with me, red and unapologetic, like a dare I was finally brave enough to answer.
When I hit the end of the runway, I didn’t look back. I turned, and I walked back.
The room erupted.
After the show, Marcus grabbed my shoulders. “You did it. Front page of Vogue Italia tomorrow. Voss has an exclusive.”
Lena was crying. “I told you. You were the one.”
I just stood there, shaking.
Not from fear.
From finally feeling big enough for the space I was taking.
Outside, the Milan night was cold, but I didn’t feel it. For the first time, the city didn’t feel like a place I was sneaking through. It felt like mine.
And I was done shrinking to fit into it.
- Writer
