It was my entry for the Beat Girl: Fan Fiction competition buuuut I ran out of time so now I guess it's just a story. #sadtimes

Anyways, hope you enjoy it xox


3. Rejection

"Have a seat" A warm male voice came from the back of the office. The office was painted a sultry red with white furniture dotted around. Amy and I each took a small single couch close to his desk while Steve sat just behind us on the bigger couch.

"I'm Amy. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Winston" Amy gushed, extending her hand,

Mr Winston shook her hand and smiled, "So you're the famous Amy I've been hearing about. You made quite an impression at London's Design College" 

Amy giggled shyly, "I hope you don't mind but I've bought some of my colleagues along" she pointed to Steve and I. 

"Oh no not at all. Moral support is always essential in fashion" He flashed me a warm smile before turning back to Amy, "Have you got your portfolio with you?"

"Yes, it's just in here" She replied excitedly, reaching into her briefcase to retrieve her folder, "Here you go" she placed it in his open hands. 

Mr. Winston opened up the book and flicked through it slowly, a smile appearing on his face.

"Very good. Intricate. Beautiful detail. A great use of tone and colour." He murmured. I glanced to the side at Amy who sat with a beaming smile across her face. He shut the book carefully and placed it on the table.

"I have to say for a nineteen year old budding fashion designer with only two years in the industry, that's one of the best portfolios I've seen" He concluded with a grin, 

"Thank you" Amy fawned with a modest smile, 

"But..." Mr Winston began,

My heart dropped. I knew what was coming next. 

"..I just don't feel like your designs are exactly...sophisticated enough. It feels over coloured, over designed, tacky even. Our ranges are based on pure simplicity and sophistication. I don't think you've quite mastered that style and your current style isn't suitable for Vogue. I'm sorry"  He finished,

I didn't dare turn to Amy, afraid of what I'd see. 

"But what about the intricate, beautiful detail? What about the 'great use of tone and colour'? You said so yourself, she's one of the best" I chipped in, my voice raising slightly, 

"Yes but that isn't Vogue's style"

"Well what is Vogue's style?" I snapped irritably,

"Finesse. Elegance. Poise. Art and fashion, combined" Mr. Winston answered calmly, "I'm sorry, Miss Collins"

"But..." I started again but Amy put a hand on my knee, 

"Forget it. Let's go" she muttered softly, "Thanks for your time Mr Winston" she managed a mere smile as she shifted herself out of her seat and walked solemnly out of the room. I followed after but Amy kept walking until she got to the lift, without stopping to wait for us. 

From Mr. Winston's office, I could hear Steve's quiet voice talking. 

"With all due respect Mr. Winston, you just lost one of the best fashion designers you'll ever have" 

"I'm sure she's very good but..." Mr. Winston replied,

"Not just very good. One of the best. You'll regret not taking her seriously" 

"Of course I take her seriously. I just feel..."

"This is not the last you'll see of her, Mr Winston. She's going on to big things" Steve insisted as he strode out of the office and into the lobby. 

Just as Steve and I started to walk towards the lifts, I heard a sigh from Mr. Winston's room.

'Rightly so' I thought, 'You just missed the opportunity of a lifetime, Mr Winston' 

Amy stood against the wall opposite the shiny metal lifts as she waited for the doors to open. 

Without a word, Steve walked up to her and pulled her in for a hug. She stayed silent but seconds later, she burst into tears. I patted her back gently, 

"It's ok, he didn't deserve your designs anyway" 

"I just wanted it so bad" She blubbed, choking on her tears.

Steve stroked her hair as she cried quietly into his shirt. In front of us, the lift doors dinged open and two suited men stepped out. After giving us confused looks, they side stepped around us and headed towards Mr. Winston's office. 

We stepped into the lift and rode down to the bottom floor, grateful that no one else got in the lift with us. 

"Hey, shall we go to dinner? As a treat?" Steve suggested brightly as we emerged from the dark walls of Vogue HQ.

"No thanks, lets just go home" Amy replied sadly,

We walked to Amy's car which was parked across the road in a supermarket car park and clambered in silence. Amy dropped Steve off first and then me. Guilt and worry clouded my heart as I slammed her car door shut and she drove off without so much as a wave.

I knew I had to do something quickly because seeing my best friend so sad was killing me inside. 

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