A Chance At Fame

I've always been so sure that I was born to be a fashionista. My friend Laura thinks so as well. But I'm not sure even she can pick me up from the biggest fall of my life... Maybe one simple phone call can, though. (Complete.)

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4. Almost There

I sat back in the fold-up black chairs again, playing with the silky scarf draped loosely over my shoulders. And yet again, I was squashed in between my two competitors. I leaned forward and rested on my elbows, as those they chattered and giggled high-pitchedly. The red-head's hair tickled my shoulder, and I pushed it away.

"Don't touch my hair," she squealed. We'd been sporting the country's top fashions for the best part of two-and-a-half hours and my subsequent lack of patience was perfectly warranted-I'd never met a pair of women as self-centered as Roxie and the red-head.

 

"Now, you've tried your best," began Edward when he reached the catwalk before us. To his despair, the other models continued to chatter. He let out a large, distinguished cough which caused them to suddenly look his way; a guilty blush rising in their cheeks. "You've tried your best, and my panel of judges has come to a decision as to who will become the fourth model," he informed us. As we sat expectantly on the verge of our seats, I realised he wasn't any papers. It must be an immediate decision, no do-overs. I bit my lip, staring intently.

Please be me, please be me, please be me... I thought.

 

"The chosen model is... Felicia Hale," my face broke out in a grin while the red-head and the brunette shot equally hateful scowls at me. "You have three hours before the performance, I suggest you take this time to ensure you perform to your strengths," he turned on his heel and disappeared through the stage curtain-his expressionless mask remaining in place until he was out of sight.

"Good luck," teased my competitors, in unison, before leaving me sitting stunned, and solitary, in the middle of the catwalk studio.

"Three hours... Better get going Felicia!" I beamed, dashing for the exit.

 

"How did it go?" Laura threw at me as I found my way to her.

"Well... I have bad news..." I began, and her face fell. "I'm going to have to work harder, because I'm in the show!"

"Well done," she said through the tight hug she encased me in. "How long have you got to get ready?"

"Three thours, come on!" I grasped her hand and pulled her along behind me.

 

I glanced up at the name of the first shop we came across.

"Style World," I informed Laura as we walked inside. The air carried a flowery aroma to accompany the flower-shaped crystal lights hanging delicately from the ceiling. Brightly-coloured stacks of clothing surrounded us. This wasn't going to be an easy choice... And this wasn't the only shop in the city! Stifling a groan, I followed Laura, who was eagerly waiting by a dress rack.

 

"Felicia, stop pacing!" Laura told me, disturbing my constant distracted pacing.

"But-"

"But nothing. We spent an hour shopping, thirty minutes looking for accessories, and an hour and fifteen minutes preparing the entire outfit plus hair! Just relax a little," she soothed. I was about to reply, when our conversation was halted by the sound of my ringtone.

"Hello?" I said.

"This is Edward, we need you down at the studio now."

"Okay, I'll be there soon," I replied, ending the call and turning to Laura. "It looks like I won't need to pace anymore; they need me at the studio."

 

"Is something wrong?" I asked frantically, bursting into the backstage area.

"No, nothing," said Edward. "I don't know why you would think that."

"Oh. What did you call me for then?"

"I wanted you to be here early, so that you could familiarize yourself with your surroundings."

"Thank you. I'll just go and do that," I said, shifting from one foot to the other, glad of an excuse to leave the room. I didn't 'familiarize myself with my surroundings', though. I went straight to the dressing room, changing into the dress I had chosen only hours prior to then. I slid open the closet door. I fingered the soft fabrics in search of my dress. But something was wrong. There was a hole in the crowd of outfits. My dress was gone.

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