“DOES ANYONE HAVE A SAFETY PIN?” Aera shouted, sewing up an inevitable eleventh-hour tear on a model’s outfit.
The hair and make-up room at the event center was bustling with commotion as models were slipping into their outfits while hairdressers and make-up artists did touch ups. Days like this made me miss this world, the nerves and excitement all wrapped into one giant knot in the pit of your stomach.
It was the most intoxicating non-drug induced experience, every time, without fail.
I glanced around the room with a content, hopeful smile until my gaze caught on October in the corner. Much to my surprise, the grin on my face only got bigger. He was laughing with the stylist who was fastening cuff links to his sleeves while he buttoned up his suit.
This thing between us was all happening fast, and to be honest, it terrified me a bit. In recent weeks, we’d hooked-up a handful of times, and somehow, my feelings for him were already this involved. It always baffled me when couples in movies got together after a few weeks of being together and they just knew.
Something deep in my gut was telling me that the knowing feeling in my chest was right.
Even weirder than that, I couldn’t remember the last time I was genuinely mad at him. The night of my birthday party? Everything after that was all a blur and I wasn’t entirely sure where my dislike for him ended or began these days—if it even existed at all.
A smile pulled at the corners of my lips as I watched him for a little while longer. He twisted his head, catching my eyes and the grin he shot me gave me the boost of confidence I needed to power through the rest of the night.
Aera came up behind me, pulling me from my thoughts as she mumbled something about how she wished she had brought her seamstress with her because this was equally as stressful as a normal fashion show would be.
We both giggled, trying to swallow our laughter so we didn’t draw attention to ourselves.
Abel’s sister was great. I like her a lot more than I expected to—I mean you never know how people will be in this industry. Especially someone who’s amassed as much success as Aera has in the last few years. Not to mention, it was cute getting to witness her and Scarlett getting along and finding their dynamic with each other.
My heart clenched in my chest. Aera would hopefully, eventually become Scarlett’s sister-in-law, which meant she would become a part of my family too. I looked over at her with a half-smile. Watching your family build another family was one of the most bittersweet parts about being an adult, and I couldn’t be happier for Scarlett than I was right now.
I cleared my throat. “Want to go check out the crowd?”
Her eyes perked up and she nodded, leading us over to the portion of the back of the stage that was still hidden by the thick, maroon curtain. She pulled back a corner just enough so we could catch a glimpse of the attendees who were starting to settle into the event hall.
“Look at all these people.” Aera took in a breath. I peered over to my left and caught her smiling to herself as we scanned the crowd. A proud smile pulled at my lips as I surveyed people shuffling into their seats and snapping photos for Socialgram.
Miami might not have been a fashion capital by any means, but the city got enough celebrity traffic that made pulling off events like this worthwhile.
“Wait! Is that Gordon Sandoval? I’ve been dying to meet him!” she exclaimed.
My heart sank as I glanced over and the short gray-haired man came into view.
No. No. No.
This could not be happening.
Gordon Sandoval was single-handedly responsible for the downfall of my modeling career. He spread lies about me so people wouldn’t pry further about the accusations I’d publicly made about him during a press run a few years back.
You see, our good friend Gordon had a habit of exploiting young models by outright stealing a percentage of their paychecks—and assumedly using that money to fund some of his scummy addictions. For the most part, he covered his tracks well. Then there was the part where most girls who were just starting out in their careers weren’t stupid enough to call him out on his bullshit, so he got away with significantly more than he should have.
I knew how much I was supposed to get paid, and I could only assume it was comparable to other girls on the same level as me. There was no debating that people were greedy, but the thousands—hundreds of thousands—of dollars he’d stolen over the years, on top of his very healthy salary, couldn’t have possibly been used for the greater good.
Yet, when I pressed the media to look into it, I was the one who was made to look like an idiot for calling out a powerful man. My career was the one that ended overnight. My business was the one that failed because I got blacklisted from the industry.
A breath was stuck in my throat.
I needed to get out of here.
Now.
Before Aera noticed the blood rushing from my face, I quickly excused myself and sprinted past the dressing area where everyone was getting ready. The baby blue ruffles on my dress flowed through the air as I picked up my pace searching for a quiet spot away from the swarms of people.
Wasn’t there a closet around here somewhere? I could’ve sworn I saw a janitor’s closet.
Where is it? Where is it?
A small sigh of relief came when I spotted the white door, followed by another when the handle turned easily and the door opened without a hitch.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
I wasn’t exactly sly about slipping inside. I didn’t care if anyone noticed, as long as I could get a moment alone to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, I’d be just fine. Right?
A sudden wave of dizziness began to cloud my vision as I flipped on the light and locked the door behind me before dropping to my knees with my head in my hands. My heart pounded forcefully as it resounded in my ears, drowning out the incessant clatter that lay behind the small door.
Of all the places this man could have showed up to unnerve me why—why— did it have to be here, at a charity event, for Christ’s sake.
Evil. The man was pure evil.
Thump thump. Thump thump.
My pulse boomed in my ears. I tried expelling a breath, but just as quickly another seemed to get caught in my lungs.
Fine. I was completely fine.
Inhale.
Nothing was wrong.
Inhale.
Not a single thing.
Inhale.
I tried to suck in a deep breath for four counts. Close my eyes, hold it, and then exhale for four counts while repeating my internal mantra.
I am calm. I am cool. I am collected.
I am calm. I am cool. I am collected.
Continuing to repeat the phrase in my head, I placed a hand against the wall to steady myself as my breathing became increasingly more sporadic. My chest grew tight, then tighter, until I was gasping for air despite trying to maintain deep, slow breaths.
Okay, five things I can see… my sparkly shoes, the tile floor, various sized boxes poorly stacked on top of each other, the light switch by the door, and the circular light on the ceiling. Four things I can touch… the blue ruffles on my dress, my diamond earrings, the wall, and the door handle. Three things I could hear… people chatting outside, someone’s cell phone going off in the distance, and pop music from the sound system blaring through the speakers from the main event space. Two things I can smell… cleaning supplies and hairspray. One thing I can taste… the green tea I had a few minutes ago.
Taking in a few more deep breaths, I finally felt like I could breathe again.
The last time I had a panic attack was a few months ago in the grocery store parking lot. Anxiety was weird like that. Sometimes it flared up at the most random, inopportune times.
Inherently, I knew the stress of the business struggling was taking a toll on me both mentally and physically. These days, unless I slept over at October’s place, I had trouble sleeping. Eating took far more effort than it usually did.
When I gave into Scarlett’s idea and approached October about this whole fuck buddy situation, I knew deep down that I just needed something—anything—to help take my mind off of my life imploding around me for a little while. I never intended for it to be anything more than a one-time fling, but now, I craved the simplicity and relief I felt whenever he was around.
It was almost like I allowed myself to let my walls down, giving him access to the ugly, damaged parts of me because he was never going to love me anyway. As fucked up as it might be, it was comforting knowing I could be the truest version of myself around him because in the grand scheme, it didn’t really matter.
Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to break free any second.
How did I let this happen?
Why was I stupid enough to think this was a good idea?
My first industry appearance in nearly two years. Of course—of course—Gordon would come here if not for any other reason than to dispirit me.
Throw me off my game.
Hit me with one final blow before blacklisting me forever.
As hard as I tried to keep my tears at bay, warm droplets began sliding down my cheeks. How had I been so naïve?
My chest shook as I pushed out a ragged breath.
Fine. I was completely fine.
Inhale.
Nothing was wrong.
Inhale.
Not a single thing.
Inhale.
My breath caught in my throat when two knocks struck against the door. “March, is that you in there?”
At the sound of his voice, my world went still and without a second thought, I dropped my head into my hands, letting the guttural sob that was stuck inside escape from my throat.
