Citrus [completed]

Chapter 29

I was considering dropping out. It would have been so much easier than dealing with this. We were in the ballroom in the basement of Newart Hall. The backstage of the transformed ballroom is bustling.

It was a large space with streamers hanging elegantly from the tall ceiling. They had wheeled in a long white catwalk to sit in the middle with hundreds of plush chairs surrounding the catwalk. Heavy bright lights were pointed towards the middle of the room. There was a DJ who was preparing the set music. Behind the curtains on the stage was backstage where everyone in the show was at the moment.

I was sure that the fashion hall that was transformed for us was beautiful but Esme, Scottie, and I had no time to gwack at the venue as we ran around, currowling people back and forth.

It was one of those controlled messes. On the outside, it clearly looks as if there is fabric laying everywhere, clothes hanging on random hangers place wherever, and people yelling into microphones. There is a method to the chaos, however. The hangers are strategically placed for quick changes. The fabric to prepare any tears that might be used in any designs.

"Fifteen-minute warning." A tech yells over the chaos. He makes his voice heard as the scrambling goes up another notch as people are shoo-ed to and fro.

Blair, I've decided to let my last design. The dark reflective fabric is slouchy and the stars glitter brightly. The incredibly low neckline shows a strip of skin leading all the way down to Blair's navel, showcasing her bellybutton.

The nonexistent neckline didn't stop Blair from trying to tug the dress up regardless. She grappled with the skintight slips that covered her breasts and tried tugging it higher. "What are you doing?" I ask her as I quickly stride over to her. The last thing I need is for a dress malfunction minutes before the show started.

"Trying to put this dress up." Blair looks in the mirror as multiple hands try fixing her hair and position her curls into just the right place. She winces when one of them pulls a bit too hard. The dress hasn't slipped an inch and yet she reaches to pull it up again.

I slap her hands down from the dress, "It doesn't go up." I inform her and take a quick circle around her to make sure there are no hidden problems or flaws that I missed in her fitting. Her fitting had been yesterday when I had finished the dress but it happened too fast for my liking. There was a nagging in my head that I missed something.

"It has to go up," She glares in the mirror, a slight scowl on her face when her hair is yanked again. She reaches up again to pull the dress up again.

"Blair. Stop messing with my dress," I repeat, emphasizing each word. I once again slap her hands out of my way before reaching out and smoothing out the dress, although it has no wrinkles. It fits Blair perfectly. I made it with her measurements in mind. That doesn't stop me from bending down and smoothing out her long train.

"You're never fun to tease on show dates." Blair pouts prettily. It doesn't escape my notice that Blair looks dazzling. She draws attention from every male in the room.

I don't notice Vanessa appearing. She had made a quick stop to the bathroom, leaving me to run around and do what I had to do. Mrs. Moonley would have a heart attack if she caught Vanessa back here instead of in her seat but luckily she was too busy to notice.

Blair gives a light giggle as I run my hands down her side, making sure that the stitching is secured. I know it is but part of me can't help but double-check. Fashion horror stories only need to happen once for it to be stuck to your reputation forever and I wasn't going to risk the chance.

"Your girlfriend is feeling me up," Blair says to Vanessa. I don't even acknowledge her statement and Vanessa rolls her eyes

"Darling, I think this is good." Wisely share with me. Her eyes ate up the dress on Blair, clearly obsessed with the outcome of it all. This was her first time seeing one of my dresses that she wasn't wearing.