SWAN : the symbol of beauty, artistry, grace and truth.
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at the pinnacle of her fashion designing career, lacey la raine laurent fatefully crosses paths with the highly sought after michael jackson. his unmatched talent and enigmatic charm...
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𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐲 𓂃⠀𓈒 july first, 1987 beverly hills, california
I sat perched on the white chaise lounge in my bedroom, sketchbook open on my lap. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the room's glamorous décor. Being a well known fashion designer usually meant that ideas and matchless designs would dawn on me rather quickly, which had allowed me to be renowned for my elegant creations. Today, however, the muse was proving elusive.
My mind swirled with design ideas, a tumultuous sea of creativity. I had a reputation to uphold; every collection was a statement. But this time, it felt like I was chasing shadows.
As I stared at a blank page, the soft click of high heels resonated in the marble-floored hallway. My mother had a way of announcing her presence that was nothing short of regal. She was a beacon of timeless grace, her beauty and elegance untouched by time.
"Darling," she purred as she entered my room, her deep sapphire eyes filled with concern. "You've been sequestered in here for hours. Are you all right?"
I closed my sketchbook, setting it aside with a sigh. "I'm trying to find the perfect inspiration for my next collection, but it's proving to be quite the challenge."
My mother settled into an armchair, her silken slip on whispering softly with every graceful movement. "My dear, inspiration is a capricious mistress. Sometimes, she graces us when we least expect it."
Her words seemed to resonate with me. She has always been a wise and intelligent woman throughout her life, and I have always seen her as a pillar of strength and wisdom.
"Perhaps you should leave this room of yours hm? Inspiration may flow elsewhere, honey. It is doing you no good being cooped up in here like this. Is Belle busy at all?"
"She's having dinner with her grandma at Cielo, and then she has a fitting before a shoot this afternoon with Gia Carangi. I doubt she'll be able to find some spare time, she's been working very hard recently." I sucked my teeth, still clouded with less than zero catalysts or any ideas on what to immerse myself in to somehow spark a firework of inspiration within my mind.
My mother graciously elevated herself from her previous comfortable position on the armchair, few strands of her luminous, honey-hued hair led astray and falling downward over her toned collarbone. "Well, I'm going to be starting dinner soon. Wagyu beef, if you'd care to join in the kitchen? Maria will be helping out too, I'm sure you'd enjoy it."
Although having the fortune and wealth desired to have chefs and maids for this kind of work, my mother always relished in taking part and helping out. No housekeeper, maid, or chef was left to be treated poorly, all were adequately treated and cared for as expected. My mother didn't believe in unfairness just because of their hired profession. She believed in equal fairness for all, regardless of their job or social status.
