Mio Sole

1 [Aurora]

**June 1st**

   I wake up in an unknown bed, one far too comfortable to be in my dorm room. It takes me a moment to remember that I'm home from boarding school for the summer—staying with John and David, the couple that adopted me last year—and why I'm awake in the first place. I grab the phone buzzing faintly by my shoulder and answer it without bothering to read the name.

"Speak," I say, rolling off the bed. The sheets tangle around my bare legs, and I stumble moment. I detangle myself as I walk towards my dressing room, the fabric leaving a trail behind me.

"That's a rude way to answer the phone," my friend and schedule manager, Alaric, lectures. Though he's only 6 years older than me, he acts like more of a father to me than any of my actual foster parents ever have. He'd come to work for me when I turned 12 and had just started my business, and has stood faithfully by my side since. He's become a friend to me, as well as one of my closest advisors.

   I hit the FaceTime button, and he accepts almost immediately. I set the phone on my vanity.

   "Good morning," I say with a sigh.

   "Good morning to you too, Rory." Through the screen, I see that he's still in bed. His dark, wavy hair falls into his face as he rolls onto his stomach and props a head on a hand. "Are you ready for today?"

   He is referring to the photoshoot that a quick glance at the clock reveals I need to be at in an hour. A prestigious French magazine had taken an interest in my designs over the past month and have been all but harassing me for an interview. I'd finally given in last week, and now have to face the consequences of that decision.

   I've had an interest in fashion since I was 6 years old. I created a fashion account since I was 9, posting pictures nearly everyday—I haven't always had the money to buy fancy clothes or to wear the style I'd like, so I often posted pictures of well-dressed people I'd seen walking in the streets. The account started to gain more attention around the time I turned 11, and various donations from supporters allowed me to turn my passion into a job and to start making my dreams become a reality.

I had started the account as a way to make sure that when I died, there would be proof that I had actually lived. In the past 4 years since I've started selling the clothes I've designed, It's become more than that. I post pictures of all of the new outfits I design, I live-stream while I'm creating them. It's no longer just proof that I exist—it's proof that I am doing something with that existence. Something that matters.

   My business completely took off two years ago. I used the money from sales to buy stores across the country—and since then, there's stores in every major city across the Americas, Europe and Asia. It has become the largest fashion industry in the world. And I became the most followed fashion designer. I have a total of 290 million followers—the second highest in the world.

"It's just a photoshoot, Alaric." He looks offended as I say this. I grab the clothes for the photoshoot and walk to the changing area, just behind a small folding screen. The outfit is simple: dark blue leggings and a beige sweatshirt. The outfits I will be wearing in the photos is already waiting at the studio, along with a hair and makeup team to help perfect the look.

"It most definitely is not just a photoshoot. If this magazine takes an interest in you, they could become one of your biggest investors. Not to mention that fact that the guys doing the photoshoot with you are all practically greek gods, and would make amazing models for your collection."

"Wait, what guys? I thought I was doing the photoshoot alone."

"Aleksandr Petrov, Niklaus Schneider, Sebastian Ramirez and Stefan Vukovic. They're all friends, and were all voted into the Top 25 Best Looking last year for the teen category. Around your age too, I think. You all have a lot in common."