Dahlia's whole life is flipped upside down when her eccentric aunt enrolls her in a prestigious university in England. She is forced to make friends with a rather eclectic group of people and adapt to her new lifestyle all while trying to find the a...
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On Wednesday, Niall took me to lunch at the cafe and asked me to go to the Spring Ball with him. It was casual, exactly how it should be, and I could tell that he was excited about the whole thing.
The following day, after classes and some light studying, Atlas and I went to London, needing to meet with Adrienne so we could design our gowns for the ball. Atlas had a very specific vision for hers, which she talked about in great detail as we sat in the back of the car as her chauffeur, Raymond, drove. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted my dress to look like, so as Atlas shared her vision with Adrienne, who had given us a warm welcome, I hoped to find inspiration by browsing through the bolts of fabric in the back of the shop.
I ran my fingers over some of the fabrics that seemed intriguing, weeding out the ones that I knew wouldn't feel comfortable against my skin. I monitored the way each color looked in comparison to my skin tone, and I considered which shades would match the season, not wanting to look autumnal. Yet, none of the fabrics held my attention, let alone sparked my imagination- until I found a particular bolt of fabric that was sandwiched between two others, making it barely visible from afar.
I let my fingertips glide over the material- a specific shade that helped me envision a very particular route of design. Every detail of the gown could be based off of that color- I knew exactly what I wanted its design to convey. It was perfect. I needed my dress to be made out of that material.
Atlas walked over to me, followed by Adrienne, who was holding her sketchbook, a few rough drafts of Atlas's dress drawn up on the pages.
"I see you've found a fabric you like," Adrienne said, looking at the material rippling under my fingers.
I nodded, mesmerized by my mental rendering of the dress. "This one's absolutely perfect."
For the next hour, I described my ideas for the gown to Adrienne, and she explained different stitching methods she would use in order to craft the desired effect. With some sample fabrics, she demonstrated the way the skirt would lay, and by pinning some sheer fabric to the chest of a mannequin, she showed me how deep the V of the illusion neckline would be. I specified certain aspects that I wanted to be made a certain way, but I allowed her creative freedom. I was sure that we were on the same page, one artist explaining her vision to another.
The dress would be finished by the upcoming Wednesday, which gave me something to look forward to. It had been a long time since I had something to look forward to.
But, then Friday arrived, catastrophe and anguish arriving with it, and suddenly, a pretty dress seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things.
On Friday night, I was smoking with Louis and Niall, which recently, was such a normal thing to do on Friday nights, such a regular thing to do when Atlas and Zayn were out on a date.
"Dahlia, I don't understand why you always insist on laying on the floor. It hurts my back," Niall complained, smoke dissipating in the air when he spoke.
