by Mia Wolf
“I’m absolutely in love with the sheer concept of Shomas,” he says prolonging the word love and rolling his eyes to match the sentiment.
He has a permanent jaded look to him as if everything around him is a drag to experience. I’m starting to realize that it’s a fashion industry standard to look that way.
“I would love to see some of your designs,” I tell him as sincerely as I possibly can.
He places a finger on his lips and closes his eyes in a pensive look then retrieves a business card from the pocket of his pants, sticks it between his index and middle finger, and presents it to me. I take it with a smile on my face and read it.
Casey Z
Head of fashion design at Veneer
It immediately puts things in perspective, and I try not to raise my eyebrows in amazement. Is no one in this audience not exceptional? I look around the crowd and immediately feel a sense of pressure to be better than I actually am. How can you not in a place like this? I feel excited about what’s waiting for me in my life, but at the same time, the nagging feeling of not being good enough to belong here sits right under the surface.
When Casey takes his leave to talk to another guest, I go and grab myself a snack from the counter in the back. I’m contemplating eating a sizzler made out of baby corns when Ashley Wang walks into the room flanked by Laurna Jedd and Steve Parera.
I’m intimidated just by the sight of her. I know I should go up to her, but I feel the terror of the prospect of doing so down to my bones. I force my knees not to buckle, and I stretch my back to stand even straighter. This is not a room where you can choose not to be the best version of yourself. This is hunger games, it is show biz, it is cut-throat as much as it is glossy, shiny, and enviable from afar.
At least in my heels, I’m much taller than Ashley Wang which gives me some confidence. I approach her with steady steps, and she smiles the moment she sees me.
“Congratulations on a successful debut,” she says with her mouth moving unsymmetrically to one side. It would look like a deformity on anyone else, but on Ashley Wang it defines grace.
“Thanks you for giving me the opportunity,” I say, humbly but not like a grovel. I was given the opportunity, but I worked hard to make it a success.
Ashley Wang is dressed from head to toe in black and white, her signature colors. There are two cherry sized black studs in her ears. Her pin-straight black hair is knotted in a bun and fixed in place by two black hair sticks that are a quiet callback to her Chinese heritage. Her outfit is bandaged around her in alternating stripes of black and white running diagonally across her body.
Even from up close, she has this air of mystery, and there’s a sharp edge to her pointed gaze. I remind myself to show no sign of weakness; I didn’t make it this far to get chewed up and spit out.
We walk to our seats, and I gasp internally, seeing the runway from my vantage point. Bright white light covers the clean, white, empty ramp. Then a flashback of being up there with Andrew the other night conjures up in my mind. His face almost looked silver in the light makeup, and his strong body stood out in the outfit that I had made for him; the body that had been wrapped around me so tightly only the night before that moment.
What Andrew and I have is purely physical. I chant the words to make myself believe them and swallow my champagne quickly so that I reach the bottom of my glass in no time. The liquid burns my throat, but it takes the sting out of the memory of being in bed with Andrew. It was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened.
Ashley Wang is talking to Laurna and Steve through much of the show, and she occasionally asks for my opinion on particular designs. I answer her questions with my honest thoughts; being true to myself is what got me here, and I prefer to keep it that way.
After the show concludes, the people in the audience once again start mingling and networking. I’m standing in the same group as Ashley when Laurna asks me about my future plans.
“Come work for us at Siera Volesque,” she says. She has a broken texture to her voice, but like Ashley, she wears it like a crown that sets her apart from the herd.
“Or you can work for my brand,” Steve Parera adds so nonchalantly that I don’t know if he really means.
“He really means it,” Ashley says as if reading my thoughts. “To be honest, Regal would be lucky to have you. But we have our hands too full at the moment to be able to handle a new addition to the team.” She sips some champagne, looking at me thoughtfully. “You will find out as soon as we have an opening, dear. Just make sure you stick around town.”
I’m already planning how to take care of accommodation and settling in New York by the time the crowd is starting to thin. Ashley, Laurna, and Steve take their leave one after the other as their drivers call them to the front gate.
Long after everyone is gone, I sit down on one of the empty chairs and look around me. The seats are now strewn around the room, the lights on the ramp off, and the lights in the auditorium dimmed. Someone will soon come to check if everyone has left before they lock up the place and go home for the day.
I remove my heels which are cutting through the back of my feet and rub my calves; they hurt from all the standing and talking. It’s a monumental decision to make, the decision to uproot the life that I have back in the village and move here to follow my dreams. On some level, the choice is a no brainer, but that doesn’t mean I’m not deeply saddened by the thought of leaving the village. I already miss Jessica and Joshua, and it breaks my heart to not be able to see their newborn baby grow up. It is a give and take. Give something away to get something in return. To leave that quiet life, that sheltered castle, the safe home that I had behind and surround myself with the lights, the noise, the tall buildings of this new world. Well, not really new, I’ve been here before, but the previous time I was here was very different, and I am ready to dive in this time.
I take a taxi home while my thoughts are full of the possibilities of life in New York. Working for Laurna or Steve would mean that no one will ever question my skills or credibility as a designer. This is my big break.
But despite the excitement flooding my veins, I suddenly feel a bout of loneliness overtaking me. And as I wonder how I’m going to make it work all by myself, my stupid heart finds comfort in knowing that Andrew will be around. That if anything goes wrong, I can go to him, and he’ll make it all okay. I hit my temples lightly with my fists in a foolish attempt to make these feelings go away, but they don’t until sleep comes for me.
Chapter 19 – Andrew
Usually, nothing gets so close to me that it has the ability to affect my entire world. This was a first, this was new, and it came and went like a meteor. The more time passes, the more it seems to hurt. Nothing really helps me get over Rose.
The week after the fashion show, I bury myself in inhumane amounts of work. “I’m not entirely human, anyway,” I console myself. Perhaps, that’s where I went wrong with Rose. Perhaps, I’m meant to be with another bear shifter.
The more I work, the less I think about Rose. Work soothes the open wound like toothpaste. It’s so unfair, I think to myself; if it were a physical wound, it would’ve healed by now. But even bears are not immune to emotional hurt.
Today, I’m going to be meeting the team at Vinyl to discuss a round of funding for a client I’ve been working with. I’ve been chasing this for half a year which is not a sound business decision, but I become too stubborn when I set my mind on something. My determined commitment to chase hopeless deals is a blessing some times, but most of the times it’s a stupid curse.
I dress in my regular white t-shirt and black jeans and make my way to the meeting. It’s not far away, about half an hour on foot, and I decide to walk there while revisiting the notes that my team has prepared on the way.
All in all, I like my work, and I like my life. It fulfills me in ways I didn’t know I needed it to. But the words that Zack spoke about coming home to a family never truly left my head. If I’m honest, I think
they already haunted me before he spoke them out loud. Perhaps, it’s just me growing old.
The meeting is to be held at this Bacardi lounge; it’s the favorite place of Craig, the VC at Vinyl. I already know we’ll be drinking and also that it’ll be the fifth day in a row where I will try to cure my hangover by drinking more.
When the meeting is over, it’s evening, and I make my way to Zack’s mansion. I’ve been spending the nights at his place the entire week simply because I don’t want to be alone in my giant ass apartment.
Zack and Olivia look at me with concerned eyes as I walk into their house. There’s a plate set at the table for me where the two of them are seated, but somehow I get the impression that I’m not very welcome here tonight. Have I overstayed my welcome? I shrug knowing they’ll tolerate me either way. Besides, I’ve done this for Zack before he was married.
“Go home, Andrew,” Zack says with brutal honesty and a comical edge to his words.
“No, thank you,” I reply putting some meat on my plate and rubbing my hands together in anticipation for a hearty meal.
Olivia places one hand on Zack’s and another one on her belly in a manner of telling him to calm down.
“You can stay here for as long as you want,” she says.
“No he can’t,” Zack says to her, but she rubs his shoulder to make him stop. I’m not really paying attention to either of them. I’m actually unable to focus on anything other than work which is a convenient coping mechanism, I’m not complaining.
“How was the Vinyl meeting?” Zack asks once he cools down.
“They’re going to reply by the weekend,” I say. “It’s most probably going to be a yes.”
Zack’s eyes widen which is a more appropriate response than my lukewarm one. Heck, I had been chasing this thing for six months, and now that I have it by the throat, I don’t have even a fleeting feeling of satisfaction.
“Andrew, are you dead inside?” Zack asks me like we’re characters in a comedy sketch show.
“Indeed,” I reply.
Once dinner is over, I go up to my room. Well, it’s not really my room; it’s a guest room for anyone who comes here, but it’s full of my stuff, things that I keep bringing every time I come here. They have so many guests rooms, I just call dibs on this one.
I take my shoes off and slip between the sheets when my phone buzzes. I’m thinking it might be Jackson, but it’s not. It’s a text from an unknown number, but I remember the end digits and I know who it is.
“Andrew, stop avoiding me. All you’re doing is making me come to you, and if I have to come to you, I’ll make sure you regret that.”
I almost want to send the wink emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to the empty threat, but I hold back. As a business owner who has had a fair amount of success, I’m quite accustomed to empty threats. The pesky alpha is the last of my troubles. I leave my phone on the bedside table and lie awake in bed for a while, waiting for Jackson to call. Only then will I be able to succumb to the sweet, sweet embrace of slumber.
My phone buzzes again, and I check it. Again, it’s not Jackson.
“There is no way you’re much different than your father, Andrew. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. He was jealous of my father, and you’re the same. If you think you’re fooling me by your little games, you’re wrong.”
I sigh and pretend to be throwing my phone right out of the window, but I don’t actually throw it.
I feared turning into my father for years; I still battle with the thought to this day. But hearing it in the Alpha’s words somehow makes the fear go away. I’m so far removed from that world, from my father now, that I’m beginning to forget what he was like. Of course, that doesn’t mean that years of upbringing don’t overtake me from time to time, but when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t see my father anymore. As long as I can meet my own gaze in my reflection, I have not become my father.
I block the unknown number, and after Jackson finally calls me, I let exhaustion cradle me to sleep.
Chapter 20 – Rose
Living in New York is like an endless string of catching cabs. Right now, I’m standing right outside my new apartment with my hand sticking out trying to get a cab to work. Thanks to being unable to fall asleep, I had plenty of time in the morning to get ready.
Before I went to bed last night, Joshua texted me to inform me that Jessica was in labor. In the morning, he sent me a bunch of beautiful pictures of a baby boy wrapped in a white towel. He looked so tiny and adorable that I cried from happiness. I called Jessica to congratulate her and ask her how she’s doing. To my relief, she didn’t sound scared or nervous; it seemed like she was at peace.
She asked when I’m coming back to the village to welcome their little boy to the world. I knew she wouldn’t let me answer that question with ambiguity, so I lied and told her that it’ll take me a couple of more weeks. So now I have a couple of more weeks to whip up a story about why I won’t be going back to the village for a few months at least. I also told her that I got several offers from big fashion brands, which immediately dissolved her sadness about me not being able to see the baby anytime soon. Of course, she’s nothing but happy for me which is what makes both leaving her and lying to her so goddamn hard.
In any case, the news of her new baby made my day even before I stepped out of bed.
Several cabs pass me by or get flagged down by other people, and I take deep breaths to keep my cool instead of incessantly staring at my watch. I think about the events of the past week. After both Steve Parera and Laurna Jedd had extended offers to me to join them, I had received about half a dozen other offer letters from fashion design brands and companies who were looking for a high-end fashion designer. Regal was not on the list, but Ashley Wang had sent me an email following our meeting at the fashion week saying that Regal would probably require my services in the near future, and not to leave town without notice. She also kindly asked me how I’ve been since the show to which I honestly replied, “it put me in the world where I always knew I belonged.”
After carefully considering all the offers, I decided to join Steve Parera. His brand and company resonate with me; they do the kind of work that I want to do. Instead of letting designers work on designs that spring completely from their minds, Siera Volesque provides their designers with a challenge, a prompt, an idea that they can bring to life. I love the kind of opportunities that they are providing me with, although I know I work far better on my own ideas and work. Nevertheless, Steve Parera will allow me to be my unadulterated self, to work on my vision, to perhaps become the next Ashley Wang.
The thrill of the idea gives me a chill as I finally slip into a cab and rest my head against the window, staring up at the sky where the sun hides behind one tall building after another.
The cab rides through the streets of New York remind me of my days around here while I was still in school. I was completely lost in life, but I found comfort in knowing my way around the busy streets. Eating street food seven nights in a row, drinking alcohol like there was no tomorrow, and going to parties trying to find the meaning of life. The regular college experience.
I reach Siera Volesque’s office building far quicker than I had anticipated, but then that’s the reason why I chose the apartment that I did. I stare up at the building and try not to get intimidated by it. I’m like Cinderella who got to keep the shoe.
I already talked to Emily, the head of HR at Siera Volesque, last week and she gave me a quick tour of the office space then showed me to my office where I will be spending all of my time for at least a few months.
It’s a tiny room that has frosted glass for one wall. I turn the door handle so preciously as if someone might be sleeping inside the room. The door opens into a nearly blank canvas of a room painted white, from the walls to the ceiling to the ivory tiles on the floor. There is an empty garment rack with hangers sitting in a corner, a white desk in the middle of the room with a white lamp and a p
en stand, and an executive chair to go with it.
Like with my designs, my vision for the room comes to me in a wave of inspiration, and I imagine myself putting some designs on the clothing rods, some samples of fabric on the desk, and some books on fashion design on the shelves.
I shut the door and jump up and down on the white rug that’s placed underneath the desk. I remove my shoes and continue the dance until I’m panting.
I did it. I really did it. I made it.
Within hours, I’m swamped with work for Steve Parera’s fashion show in Milan that’s coming up in three months’ time. I have a back breaking first day, but I make my way home at 9 p.m. in the night with the biggest smile on my face, feeling the wind in my hair as the bustle of New York’s lifestyle fills me with a strange sense of familiarity.
Of course, I don’t see what’s coming.
Chapter 21 – Andrew
I knew the day would come when I would have to go on another mind-numbing date. This time, it’s Vinyl’s infamous godfather who has made the request himself. It’s become part of a vapid routine by now.
The date is at the Hilton’s restaurant again which is comforting; by now it’s almost like a second home. Well, that would be Zack’s mansion, but you get the point.
Today, I wear a black t-shirt in the name of experimenting, and I hate it already by the time I step out of my apartment. As an update, I stopped crashing at Zack’s place because he was getting increasingly tired of me moping around his house. Besides, Olivia’s delivery date is the coming weekend which made me extremely nervous being around her.
“You’re not the one about to push a baby out of you, Andrew,” Liv said jokingly.
