by Mia Wolf
“Rose, you’re up in ten minutes,” she says nonchalantly.
Violet divulges all the information in quick succession then leaves us alone once again. I no longer have anything left to say, so I take my leave as well.
I’m praying in my heart, hoping Rose will tell me to stop, to turn back, but she doesn’t. I try not to let the hurt surface to the top.
It works because I don’t feel a thing. I go completely numb as I step out onto the stage when it’s my turn.
Chapter 16 – Rose
Everything is going well until Andrew shows up. His outfit is a bit complicated to understand, so I told Violet I’ll take care of it. I told her that before I went and slept with him, and now I regret making that decision.
I swallow my pride and anger and make my way to his green room to check up on him.
I open the door and see him dressed in the design I made for him. The pain shoots straight to my heart. He looks absolutely irresistible.
Before I can have a rational thought, Andrew is on me. His lips are on mine, and his tongue is looking for an entry to explore my mouth. I try to resist, but the feeling is so overwhelmingly good that my defenses all collapse, and I’m already wrapping my hands around his neck.
Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. My head is screaming and begging for me to stop, but I have lost all control over my body. I always knew it was dangerous to get close to him. There is no hope now that I’m in too deep. All I can do is accept the crushing consequences of my actions. Why is love always the source of my downfall?
When Andrew lets go of me, I wipe my lips of his taste, and I’m too frazzled to know what to do with myself. I busy myself with getting him ready for the show because I’m not letting him or anyone, even myself, sabotage the most important night of my life.
I can feel the anger wafting off him, but my mind is already on auto-pilot. Just get this over with, I tell myself to calm down. I get a hold of my senses until I see Andrew’s knuckles crusting with dried blood. The bolt of pain that shoots through me when he pulls his hand out of mine refuses to go, even long after he has left the room. He won’t let me near him and rightfully so, but I can’t put the image of his bruised hand out of my mind. I let my knees buckle momentarily after he leaves me standing alone in the green room then follow him to the backstage because there is no more time left to waste.
My show is on now, and I let the organized chaos overtake me, checking on models and designs for the final time, and biting my nails as the models walk onto the ramp. I try hard to see people’s reaction to the designs from my spot backstage, but it’s a struggle with all the bright lights illuminating the aisle.
Finally, Andrew is on. “Rose, you’ll accompany Andrew when he goes for the second time as the introduction for the designer,” Violet says in my ear, and I nod.
I know I have reached my limit of hurting Andrew. I take solace in knowing that the show is going well, but it fails to placate me this time. My eyes are locked on Andrew’s hands as he walks in front of me until we reach the end of the ramp. His body language changes as soon as he steps up on the platform.
I watch Andrew walk up the stage, and I feel a brittle snap of my heart with every step he takes. Outside, a collective gasp reverberates through the audience, and all the chatter from moments ago is now gone, hushed by the spectacle in front of their eyes. Andrew looks like a Greek god dressed up in the outfit that I made for him. He looks exactly as I thought he would. I can almost hear the whole world applaud and praise my creation, but I don’t feel a tinge of happiness.
His hands are bruised, and I want to run up to him and take care of them. Make him sit down, clean the wounds and bandage them. I want to hug him tightly and never let go, but all I do is watch him walk away.
Rows upon rows of girls scream once Andrew reaches the end of the runway, and slows down for the audience to take a good look at the design. I can’t determine whether the reception is that overwhelming because my work is good or because Andrew is as gorgeous as he is. Even in my state, I feel a pang of jealousy towards him. Can I not let another man overshadow me once again?
My throat dries up as I see Andrew walking back towards backstage. He has his eyes fixated on mine the entire way. I stare back at him, feeling angry for some reason. At him? Myself? The world?
The announcer calls my name, and Andrew presents his hand to me to walk with him as Violet had instructed me to. I begrudgingly take it. We walk down the runway side by side as the crowd of people cheers, making the auditorium echo with the noise. I see Ashley Wang sitting in the crowd and clapping with a smile on her face and staring up at me with something resembling pride in her eyes. I smile back at her, and let go of Andrew’s hand to take a respectful bow.
I bask in the glory for a while then go back the same way as I came, this time with Andrew following after me instead of holding my hand. Once we reach backstage, I turn around to talk to Andrew, but before I can say anything, he leaves the place without so much as a glance in my direction.
The entire crew passes me by and congratulates me on the success of the show. I see everything in slow motion. I can hear sounds and see people, but I don’t understand where I am. I feel a dull ache in my chest that keeps longing for Andrew who seems to be forever gone.
I suddenly stop hearing all sound, and the light becomes too bright too quickly. My fingers become numb, and my heart turns to stone.
He is leaving, Rose. You are letting him go.
I have to let him go, I have to fight my feelings. The rational part of my brain is at odds with the emotional part. But my body is losing itself, falling into a deep darkness that I welcome.
The rush of blood to my head gives me the final blow I need to drop to the ground.
He is gone.
Chapter 17 – Andrew
When I wake up in the hospital the next day, Rose is already awake and staring at me with eyes that don’t have any light in them. There is a wrenching twist of pain in my chest at that look. Am I doing this to her? I wonder whether I should just walk away in silence.
“Good morning,” I say, feeling a little groggy in my throat.
I had heard the commotion behind me as I walked away after leaving the runway. When I had turned around, it was only to see Rose collapsing. Violet called an ambulance, and I didn’t hesitate to drive straight to the hospital and stay the night.
“Morning,” Rose says in a pained voice. I notice her hair falling out of her hair tie and cascading down her face. She looks tired, her eyes smeared with eye makeup and her shoulders sagging under some invisible weight. Looking at her, I want to take all of her worries away. But I can’t if she doesn’t want me to be the one to do so.
“How’s your head?” I ask in a manner of making small talk, It makes me wonder, have we already run out of things to talk about?
Rose gently takes her left hand, the one not attached to the IV, and caresses her forehead, seemingly to check if it hurts.
“It seems to be fine.” Her words are hollow, distant.
“The show was pretty successful, I was told. Congratulations.”
There is an imperceptible nod in my direction then Rose looks away from me again.
“Rose, why don’t you talk to me?” I spit out in a sudden moment of rage. Where it is coming from is lost on me, but I know I feel it crisp and clear like a distinct pulse of fury in my veins.
She looks at me with her forehead creased as if I’m an inconvenience.
“Don’t give me that look,” I say and grit my teeth.
“I’m not giving you any look,” Rose dismisses me.
“Yes, you are. And you’re avoiding my question.” I realize I would’ve been able to keep my calm if it were anyone but her. Precisely why am I still here, begging at her heels to accept me, to even look at me? If it were anyone else, I would’ve tackled this like business. But it’s not business; my emotions are clouding my judgment, and I can’t help but fall deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole.
“Fine,” Rose snaps me out of my pity-party.
“Fine, what?” I say too quickly because my temper is getting the better of me.
“I’m avoiding you. I’m trying to put some goddamn distance between us because it’s ruining my life, Andrew.” My name comes out of Rose’s mouth like a swear word. A bitter curse she’d rather not use.
“I’m ruining your life?” The answer is not what I expected. “How exactly am I doing that?”
“I don’t have time for this, Andrew. Last night was the most important night of my life, and I couldn’t even enjoy it because you’re overtaking my mind. I’ve been there before, and trust me, I will eventually end up resenting you for it.” She pauses and makes forceful eye-contact with me. “Don’t get in the way of my dreams. It’s suffocating, being consumed by you so completely.”
The words spread like venom through my body. There is defeat on Rose’s face. When did we get so carried away?
I place a hand on Rose’s hoping I can still reach her somehow, someway. I want to tell her I’m here for her, but Rose frees her hand out of my grip. It will be easier to leave now that I’ve heard why I’m being treated this way. I no longer have it in me to keep hurting her. It’s my own damn mistake for falling in too deep too fast. Rose never agreed to bear the burden of my feelings for her.
Family, I think when I look at her face one last time in this lifetime. Just because I want something doesn’t mean I can have it.
I don’t leave the hospital until Rose is discharged two hours later since she doesn’t know anyone in the city. She insisted that I leave her, but I didn’t listen to her. I have every intention of not looking in her direction again once we go our separate ways from here. I drop her off at the hotel without saying goodbye. I can’t, the words are stuck in my throat.
I tell Jackson to cancel all my plans for the day and go home to take a shower and watch some show on TV. Then I drive to Zack’s house. I do that every time something good happens in my life. Zack and I, we’re two people who didn’t have a family and who found a family in each other.
It’s evening by the time I reach his place, and Olivia doesn’t keep me for too long after noticing that I’m on edge. I go straight to their kitchen right next to which they have a minibar. I pull out a fancy bottle of scotch and two glasses and make my way to the swimming pool.
I can’t think of a better way than to drink my pain away. I’m not looking forward to Zack seeing me fall apart like this.
I’m on my fourth glass of scotch when Zack shows up. He’s still in his work clothes as he walks up to me, loosening his tie as he takes tired steps in my direction. He did not have a good day, I can tell.
“Why the long face?” I ask him as he grabs the empty glass and pours himself some alcohol.
“Rough day, man,” he says gulping down the contents of his glass in one sip. “I hate our new client.”
“Didn’t you insist on getting him on board?” I ask Zack, remembering how we discussed the project in depth over a weekend.
“Mistakes have been made,” he sighs.
It’s all part of the business, I’m thinking.
“What’s gotten you down in the dumps?”
“You will not take me seriously if I tell you,” I say. “Just let me drink in peace.”
“When have I ever not taken you seriously?” Zack asks mockingly and pats my shoulder to encourage me to talk.
“All the time, Zack. All the time,” I reply half-jokingly. “When have you ever taken me seriously?”
“Come on, Andrew. Spit it out, it’ll be good for your sanity.” He pours me more alcohol which makes me think he really means it.
“You know I told you about a girl,” I begin.
“Oh, no—” Zack stops himself before saying something stupid like, ‘this is about some girl?’
He sighs and sits beside me then puts an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t tell me, she dumped you?”
I don’t need to answer the question, the defeat on my face is answer enough.
“Shit, man. Did she at least tell you why?”
I look up at the sky and fix my gaze on Orion. “I’m ruining her career?” I say as if I can’t believe it myself. If this is all just about getting late for the show because we slept with each other, I would call it a bit of an over-reaction. I sigh, I must finally be getting back to my senses.
“That sounds like a lousy reason,” Zack says in a cool, even tone. “That’s assuming you can’t do both things at the same time, having a career and having a personal life. How old is she?”
I know Zack is trying to imply that Rose is naive, and his question stings in my gut. I’m still taking her side.
“Don’t bad mouth her,” I whisper idly.
“Here’s the thing Andrew, and this isn’t just about me or just about you. Success is important, you know me, you know how much success means to me. But trust me when I say it means nothing if I don’t come home to a family and celebrate it with Liv,” he pauses then repeats his words. “It means nothing at all.”
“That’s what I was hoping for, too, to come home to her,” I mutter under my breath.
Zack straightens up suddenly and looks me square in the eyes. “You still like her!” he exclaims in a mix of horror and disbelief.
I don’t answer that, but we both know what my silence means.
“Andrew, as your best friend, I need to warn you when you’re making a mistake,” he pauses as if waiting for me to come to a sane realization on my own. “Talk to me. Why do you like her?”
That’s when I really look at Zack. I thought he would tell me to forget her or to get my head back in the game.
“She feels like home.” I don’t need to say more. Zack knows exactly what having a home means to me. He also knows how much happiness Olivia has brought to his life, and I know he wouldn’t want anything less for me.
“You’re not just going to give up like a wuss then, are you?”
I don’t know what Zack is trying to imply. “I’m not going to force her to be with me.”
“You don’t have to, but you don’t have to give up either,” he says as if it makes total sense to him.
“You know who didn’t give up on me?” I ask Zack, and I can see that the question catches him off guard. “My father. I know how easily family can smother the life out of you. I am not going to do that to Rose.”
“So her name is Rose.” Zack retreats and lies down on the ground.
I lie down next to him, the alcohol is now getting to my head.
“Andrew, the decision is yours at the end of the day,” he pauses, searching for the right words, “but you are not your father.”
Chapter 18 – Rose
I shed off the part of me that yearns for Andrew once I’m back in my hotel. I try to forget him like a dream that I had to wake up from, forget what it was like to feel his skin touching mine. There is pain in the process, but this is what’s best for me.
I call Jessica to tell her all about the show, how everyone loved my work. She tells me she watched the show live on TV.
“Your work looks so professional, like you belong in that world,” she says.
Then I tell her about passing out from exhaustion once the event ended, and very briefly mention not getting involved with Andrew any further. I say it with enough confidence that she doesn’t ask any questions.
After I hang up, I receive an email from Ashley Wang.
Miss Maibach,
It is my pleasure to invite you to the second night of the Regal fashion week with a seat on the front row. After the resounding success of your debut show, I suppose it will be good for you to immerse yourself in the works of other designers as an inspiration moving forward.
Violet will relay all the details to you. Do join us.
Ashley Wang
Fashion Designer at Regal
The moment I finish reading the email, I receive a call from Violet.
“So will you go?” she asks me as if she is actually blind-sided about my response.
“Of course, Violet. I would love nothing more.” My voice becomes high-pitched when I’m excited. “So does that mean that I’ll be meeting Ashley Wang?”
“You’ll be sitting right next to her, Rose,” says Violet.
She gives me the details of the schedule and informs me that she’ll send me all the information by email, which is a good thing because I’m not really paying much attention. My mind is stuck on sitting next to Ashley Wang while watching the Regal fashion week from the comfort of the front row.
I can’t believe this is my life, and I scream out with excitement after throwing the phone on my hotel bed once I’m done talking to Violet. I go up to the mirror and take a deep look into my own eyes. I’ve finally found a place where I belong, and I’ve redeemed myself for my past mistakes.
There is a trickle of sadness in the back of my mind, a voice that says, ‘what is all this for?’ but I silence it.
All this is for giving myself a chance at a life that was snatched away from me. Do I need a better reason? I have not felt more like myself in a long time. It’s like I was flailing my arms above the water surface all these years and only now have I learned to trust the water, to breathe, and to swim. Michael does not care about that, and Andrew doesn’t, either. It all comes down to me; I have to watch out for myself.
I make it to the show well in time. Before the show starts, everyone simply stands around the premise, I suppose to network. I walk into the crowd, and a bunch of people come up to me to ask me more about my background in design, about my inspiration, about my style.
I’m wearing a white cocktail dress style Shoma that has long flowing sleeves and a black belt around the waist. I’m told about half a dozen times how interesting it looks or that I should model, too.
A slender man in a baggy suit with a casual t-shirt under the jacket and a receding hairline strikes up a pretty interesting conversation with me. We have a back and forth with champagne glasses in our hands while occasionally looking around to see who else we might want to go up to.
