Whispers in the city lights

Chapter One: Glimpses in the Spotlight

New York Fashion Week

The hum of excitement filled the air backstage at New York Fashion Week, a pulse of energy that surged through the narrow corridors and echoed off the high ceilings. Models in various stages of preparation—some applying last-minute touches of makeup, others slipping into impossibly elaborate gowns—moved like waves, a sea of beauty and anticipation. Amidst the chaos, Sage Gray stood out effortlessly.

At just twenty-three, Sage had taken the fashion world by storm. With her striking features—deep, stormy gray eyes, and a cascade of silver-blonde hair that framed her face in soft waves—she was a vision that seemed plucked from another world. Her presence was magnetic, drawing the eyes of photographers, designers, and fellow models alike. Tonight, she would be walking for one of the most prestigious designers of the week, an honor that still felt surreal despite her rapid rise to fame.

As she waited for her turn on the runway, Sage adjusted the intricate gown she wore, a creation of emerald silk that clung to her figure and shimmered like liquid under the lights. The dress felt like a second skin, both a comfort and a reminder of the persona she donned each time she stepped into the spotlight. Sage was used to the adoration, the whispers of her name as she passed, but there was always a part of her that remained detached, as though the girl she saw in the mirror belonged to someone else.

"You're up in five," a stagehand informed her, his voice barely audible over the din.

Sage nodded, offering a polite smile. As she moved towards the curtain, the familiar adrenaline began to course through her veins. The runway was where she felt most alive, where the world faded away and she could be someone else, if only for a few minutes. But tonight, something felt different. A sense of anticipation lingered in the air, a feeling that something—or someone—was waiting just beyond the lights.

As she stepped onto the runway, the world exploded into flashes of cameras and the murmurs of the crowd. Sage walked with the grace of someone born to be in motion, her every step a calculated display of elegance. She didn't need to think; her body knew the rhythm by heart. But as she neared the end of the runway, she caught sight of something—or rather, someone—in the audience.

He was seated in the front row, his tousled brown hair and disarming smile unmistakable. Harry Styles. The name echoed in her mind like a distant melody. She had heard he might attend, but seeing him there, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart skip, was something else entirely. For a brief second, their eyes locked, and a spark of recognition passed between them, like the flicker of a match in the dark.

Sage felt her composure falter, just for a heartbeat, before she regained control and completed her walk with the poise expected of her. But the moment lingered in her mind, an echo of something unspoken. As she disappeared behind the curtain, her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the connection she had felt. Was it all in her head, or had he felt it too?

The show continued, but Sage's thoughts were elsewhere. She moved through the motions, greeted designers and fellow models with the customary air kisses and compliments, but her mind was still on the man in the front row. The afterparty was where she might get answers, though the prospect both thrilled and terrified her.

After the show, the venue transformed into a glamorous afterparty, with soft lighting, plush seating, and an endless supply of champagne. Music played softly in the background, providing a soundtrack to the laughter and conversation that filled the room. Sage mingled, exchanging pleasantries with industry elites, but she felt like she was moving in a daze, searching the crowd for one face in particular.

And then, as if conjured by her thoughts, he appeared. Harry Styles, in all his charismatic glory, made his way through the crowd with an ease that spoke of someone who was used to being the center of attention. He wore a tailored suit that was both stylish and slightly undone, the top buttons of his shirt left casually open. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of green, scanned the room before landing on her.