Insane Love

Chapter 1

3 Months Earlier

"Would someone please find me some boob tape, for the love of God!"

I'm surrounded by way too many people then is safe in this room, all of which are supposedly under my employ, and no one can find me what I need. I'm about to scream, blow my top completely, go through the roof if no one can- "oh, there it is."

I always forget how little room there is backstage. The insane volumes of bodies cramped into this tight space is driving the heat up so much I feel like I will spontaneously combust very soon.

We have so much that we need to do in the next 30 minutes, and I do not cope well under pressure. In hindsight, if I had known that I would be stood here today screaming at people to get me boob tape, so that there isn't a visible bra line when my model walks down the runway, I probably wouldn't have started on this career path.

When I started this venture 7 years ago, I didn't think any of this would happen at all.

I was just a broke university student who realised that instead of spending half of my monthly budget on a top that would adequately cover me properly, without giving onlookers an aneurism, I could just make my clothes myself. As it turned out, textiles weren't all that expensive, certainly not as expensive as a t-shirt from a high street's 'curve' section tucked away at the back of the store. So that is exactly what I did, I went out, got myself a few yards of fabric, pulled out my sewing machine, which has passed through enough generations of my family to be called an heirloom at this point, and I made a top. Then I made another. Then some of my top-heavy friends wanted one as well, then someone offered me money for my time and well... Here I am.

"Miss Clarke!" My new assistant Jenna comes skipping over to me, her mousey brown hair flowing as a stream behind her as she dodges and weaves through the half-naked crowd. The youthful glow to her skin, complimented by the dusting of freckles across her face, never fails to make me forget that we are in fact the same age.

"Jenna, please, we have been over this."

"Sorry I know... Ava."

I wait for a few beats, watch her roll on her heels a couple of times before I turn my attention back to the pair of breasts in front of me. "Jenna," I practically sigh her name. My fuse is extremely short today. I like everything to go perfectly, and I make sure I have the team to be able to do that, that team does include Jenna. She has only been with us at AC Apparel for a month, and in none of that time has she had the luxury of experiencing the absolute carnage that is show day.

The last month it has been a breath of fresh air having someone to give me a hand and screen my calls. That and her overly cheery outlook has been infectious. Today however, I am the Grumpy to her Sunshine.

"Oh!" She practically jumps back into action, remembering what she came over here to say, "there is something wrong with some of the press passes, they aren't showing up on the system. I was just going to turn them away, but I didn't want to do anything without coming to you or Lauren, and I saw you first."

A hum is all I can muster as a response.

I spend another minute adjusting the tape I'm working on, before the model puts her top back on so I can check everything. A nod of approval and she is off, blending seamlessly in the mass of bodies within seconds. "Right then Sunny," I spin around to face Jenna, met by her annoyingly infectious smile, "lead the way."

She marches on, then abruptly stops. I don't have enough time to react, and bump straight into her back. She doesn't seem to notice, "does that make you Cher?" I let out a breathy chuckle and then push her gently, urging her to continue forward. I'll explain it to her later.