FLAWLESS

CHAPTER 24

Shanelle's POV

Sitting in the makeup chair, my head rested on my hand, propped on the armrest. The bustling noises, music, and conversations echoed around me, but I was lost in my own world. The backstage crew, responsible for informing me of my cue, seemed like distant figures in the chaos. My mind couldn't help but wander back to what happened two nights ago with Vincent at the gala. It was as if he had become an irritating brain cell, relentlessly nagging at me. No matter how hard I tried to focus, my thoughts kept circling back to him, consuming my attention and blurring my surroundings.

I had given up on trying to banish him from my mind. No matter how much effort I exerted, it felt futile. Vincent had become an unwelcome presence, stealing my concentration and overshadowing everything else. The world around me became a mere backdrop, faded and unimportant in comparison.

Suddenly, Beatrice snapped her fingers in front of my face, jolting me out of my daze. I blinked, slowly regaining awareness of my surroundings. 

"Nelle? You okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

I looked up at Beatrice and straightened myself in the seat, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. 

"Yeah, I'm okay. Why?" I replied, attempting to sound more composed than I felt.

Beatrice pointed towards the back and said, "They're calling all models upfront, so let's go."

Reluctantly, I stood up from the comfortable chair, following Beatrice through the maze of people in the room until we joined the line with the rest of the models, waiting for our cue to grace the runway. Beatrice reached out and took hold of my hands, intertwining our fingers, and offering me a reassuring squeeze. But the reassurance eluded me, as the room seemed to shrink, its walls closing in around me.

Anxiety tightened its grip, making my breaths come in ragged gasps. I glanced around, feeling overwhelmed by the cacophony of voices and the blaring music. My head spun, and the world seemed to sway in an unsettling rhythm.

Right as one of the backstage crew members gave the cue to the first girl to lead the way, I yanked my hands away from Beatrice's grasp and took a step back. Bea turned her head, her brows furrowing in confusion as she watched me retreat. 

"Nelle, what are you doing? We're about to go on stage!"

I looked at her, my gaze filled with a mix of fear and desperation. With a single shake of my head, I turned and bolted out of the room, leaving behind a bewildered crowd calling my name. The confusion and urgency in their voices followed me as I raced away, seeking solace from the suffocating pressures that had engulfed me.