The anticipation of her appearance had overwhelmed the fashion industry. As the crowd watched a line of beautiful, slender ladies march the newest line of overpriced clothing down a long marble runway, they all seemed to be anxious but in their own cool and uncaring way. All eyes were a little wider, though, and cameras clicked a touch more furiously. And reporters drank in everything, like overworked drunks outside of a bar on election day. Although this season's line was proving to be exceptional, what they really wanted to see was the new girl. She had been described as being the next goddess Aphrodite, or the second coming of Helen of Troy. Everyone knew such descriptions were often overblown, but this one had the affirmation of several noteworthy and reputable industry leaders.
But whatever came to pass, this debut would be wearing the fashions of the great Fashionista. And as you all know, The Lady Fashionista was possibly the greatest designer of women's fashion the world has ever seen!
A name originally given to her mockingly, The Lady Fashionista spent the first half of her career building up a reputation and creating her brand. And the girls she chose to wear her clothes, we're always among the best.
Waiting in the background, in the last row at the side of the runway, and in the shadows of the flashing camera lights, sat James Newman. He didn't say he was going to be there; it was a decision he had made at the last minute. But nonetheless, he decided to come in support of his friend, who he knew would be a little nervous.
Suddenly she appeared. From the right side of the stage marched a fair-haired slender lady. As she emerged, every camera stopped clicking, and the commentators stopped talking. Wearing a baby blue silk dress with a hemline just above the knee, she glided to center stage, turned a corner, and marched down the runway. The calamitous upbeat music drowned out a silent gasp. Every conversation ceased as postures straightened in an involuntary look of attention. As she paraded down the long marble walkway, an explosion of flashes and an eruption of applause burst onto the stage. Everyone in the room found themselves standing and clapping. Everyone except James Newman. He sat quietly, smiling at a result he somehow knew was inevitable.
Backstage, after the show, was chaotic. A flurry of reporters asked a mountain of questions as the young lady struggled to answer. To her rescue came the Lady Fashionista.
"Alright, that's enough!" yelled the designer with her hands up in defense of her most noteworthy model. "Let her get dressed; she's new to this and is still a little shy."
As the Mob tried to get closer, the Lady Fashionista magically pushed them back. Like a lion tamer in a three-ring circus, the reporters were pushed slowly out the door.
As the gathering disappeared, what was left was a small group of people: The Lady Fashionista, Tamera Lynn McMath, and James Newman.
"Sorry about that," said Miss Fashionista, "sometimes people can act worse than animals!" She continued looking out the door in disgust.
"Thanks for your help. I don't know what I would have done without you. Is it always like this? Attention, I mean." Asked Tammy."
"Yes, but less intense. I hope that you never get to the point where you love it. And watch out for the other girls, their, no doubt, gnashing their teeth over this."
She left Tammy alone with James. Before leaving, she put her hand on James's shoulder.
"You looked incredible." Said James, "Those make-up people really know their stuff."
"Oh, stop. I felt kind of embarrassed out there."
"Well, you didn't look it. You looked like you were having fun."
"Behind the smile was a terrified woman."
Natalie walked in to congratulate her.
"You were great! Said Natalie."
"Oh? I didn't feel so great, but thanks anyway."
"Now, you must stop by after. I don't care how many princes or princesses you must go shopping with!"
"What do you think, James? Do you want to spend some time with a bunch of supermodels?"
"No, I've got some work to catch up on. Maybe next time."
"Work?!" exclaimed Natalie. "Skip it! It's not every day you get to hook up with the most beautiful women in the world."
"No, but I did get to spend a good part of my life with the most beautiful one." Said James. "Can I call you tomorrow?"
"Sounds good." Said Tammy.
When James had left, Natalie turned to Tammy and spoke.
"What's with that guy?"
"Nothing, he just finds this job a little boring."
"Sounds like a snob."
"No, not really. He recognizes the validity of the work we do and thinks it's honest and honorable. It's just the industry's emphasis on self-importance that he finds... repulsive."
"What?"
"I know; he feels the same way about music artists. In today, out tomorrow. Disposable people. It's no way to treat your life."
"Well, everyone needs a career. And if your family does disinherit you, at least you'll have some money to fall back on."
"I know, but is practicality worth abandoning your family and self-worth?"
"Your family are a bunch of a-holes! If you ask me."
"We don't get to choose our family. Our friends, on the other hand...
"I understand. Well, the invitation is still open, if you can find the time."
"I don't know, without James, what would be the point... Call me if we get another gig."
"Ok? Wait! Where are you going?!"
"To bed! These good looks require a lot of hard work."
YOU ARE READING
In The Shadow Of The Tower
Science FictionTwo super-rich kids grow into young adulthood and struggle with their feelings for one another. She has loved him for quite some time, but he is unsure and needs to figure things out. She is also engineered by her father's company to love someone el...
