CHAPTER 38

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Vincent POV

I walked briskly through the grand double doors, my heart pounding with anticipation. The room buzzed with excitement as the aroma of delicate perfumes mingled with the soft hum of chatter. Dan followed closely behind, a bouquet of pristine white roses clutched tightly in his hand. These were the flowers I planned to give to Shanelle after the show.

Shelby had texted me two days ago. She informed me that Shanelle, the woman would be having a grand fashion show tonight. It was a momentous occasion, a milestone in her career. Despite the bitter taste of our past encounters, I couldn't bear to let this night pass without showing her that my love remained steadfast, even if she doesn't stand the sight of me nowadays.

As we made our way toward the seating area, the gazes of the other guests followed our every move. The second row awaited us, reserved for the VIPs, where we would be in the company of other esteemed guests. Most of them were elegantly dressed females, their eyes lighting up as they noticed Dan and me. Dan reveled in the attention, basking in the adoration he so effortlessly attracted. But my focus remained unwavering, fixated on the closed red curtains that concealed the beginning of the runway.

Nervousness and excitement mingled within me, creating a whirlwind of emotions. My palms grew clammy, and my breath quickened in anticipation. It was as if a symphony played within my chest, the crescendo building with every passing second. I could hardly wait to lay eyes on her, to witness her radiance as she took the stage.

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight illuminated the center of the stage. The master of ceremonies stepped forward, his voice resonating through the hall. He delivered an eloquent speech, his words carrying a sense of grandeur and reverence for the artistry we were about to witness.

As the MC finished his introduction, the first few beats of a familiar song reverberated through the venue. It was The Weeknd's "The Hills," a pulsating melody that infused the air with an edgy allure. The runway show had begun.

One by one, the models emerged from the shadows, striding confidently down the runway. They were clad in breath-taking black gowns, each with its unique design that exuded elegance and style. I couldn't help but stare in excitement, at the way the fabric draped and flowed, enhancing the models' graceful movements.

My eyes darted from model to model, hoping to see her. I fidgeted in my seat, anticipation making my hands clammy. Dan chuckled beside me, his knowing eyes glinting mischievously.

"Relax, dude," he whispered, nudging my arm. 

"Shanelle will be the last one to walk. She'll be showcasing the final piece." I turned to him, perplexed. 

"How do you know that?" I asked, my voice tinged with surprise.

Dan inclined his head subtly, drawing my attention to the girls sitting beside him. They were chatting animatedly, their hushed voices carrying over to us. My confusion gave way to relief, and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I could always count on Dan to have his ear to the ground, gathering all the insider information.

As the models paraded down the runway, the atmosphere buzzed with admiration and awe. The audience erupted into applause, their enthusiasm echoing through the grand hall. I joined in, clapping my hands and reveling in the electric energy that coursed through the air.

Suddenly, the vibrant lighting shifted, transitioning into a hauntingly beautiful dark purple hue. The audience grew silent, their collective breaths held in anticipation. We all stood, eyes fixed on the runway, waiting for the arrival of the star of the show—Shanelle.

A hushed silence fell upon the audience, and we all stood in anticipation, awaiting the grand reveal of Shanelle's much-anticipated gown. Yet, minutes turned into eternity, and an uneasy restlessness settled upon us.

I glanced at Dan hoping to find some reassurance. Instead, he merely shrugged, mirroring my own confusion. The puzzled murmurs of the audience began to rise, spreading like wildfire. It was evident that something was amiss, and anxiety crept into my veins like an unwelcome guest.

Sitting beside me were two women, their whispered conversations growing more anxious by the second. Their voices wove through the air, and I couldn't help but overhear their increasingly concerned questions.

"What's taking Shanelle so long?" one of them asked, her brows furrowed.

"Maybe there's a technical glitch," another suggested, her eyes scanning the dimmed runway.

A nervous tension settled between us, and I could feel the weight of their collective worry. I leaned closer, unable to resist the temptation to join the conversation.

"Do you think she had trouble with her gown backstage?" Another woman asked, her voice tinged with concern.

The women exchanged knowing glances, contemplating the possibility. 

"It could be," one replied, her voice laced with worry. 

"But this is unlike her. She's always been meticulous in every fashion event."

As the conversation unfolded, doubts gnawed at me. It wasn't just a wardrobe malfunction. Something else happened and my gut instinct nagged at me, urging me to find her.

Without a second thought, I rose from my seat, a mixture of determination and apprehension coursing through my veins. Dan's eyes widened in surprise as he caught my gaze, a silent question lingering between us. I offered him a tight-lipped smile, my unspoken message clear;

I have to find Shanelle and make sure she's alright.

Navigating through the dimly lit corridors, my heart pounded with a sense of urgency. The backstage chaos swallowed me whole, models hurriedly adjusting their garments, makeup artists frantically perfecting their craft. But amidst the organized chaos, there was an undercurrent of panic, a sense that time was slipping away.

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