match point /ˈmaCH ˌpoint/
: a point marked on one pattern piece so it can be matched to a similar point on another pattern piece.
Lettie, a skilled seamstress and stylist, is just starting to forge her own path when she's thrust into the music in...
We didn't win our category. We lost to Thirty Seconds to Mars. It'd obviously feel good to win, but I was okay with not winning. At least there was an afterparty and free booze to unwind with. I was running on fumes, but that was nothing new, and that's when I was a cheap drunk and a good time.
I walked into the afterparty after dodging all the lights of the paparazzi and photographers outside the venue with the rest of the band. I was still getting Alexa questions. I would never say anything, but it was still infuriating to get harassed about her, especially when it still felt so fresh to me. Thankfully, a prior engagement prevented her from being at the awards tonight, so there was no awkward run-in for the paps to catch either.
The afterparty was packed and in full swing by the time I arrived. The music was pulsating, and there was a sea of familiar faces from all across the industry. I scanned the room, looking for my bandmates. I didn't see them, but I spotted Ian engaged in a lively conversation with a woman in a baby pink, sequined dress that left little to the imagination, and the woman had obviously dressed knowing that. I laughed at Ian talking to her and picturing him trying to flirt.
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I headed to the bar and grabbed a beer before going to Ian to witness his game in person. As I got closer, I could see the woman's face a little more; the woman in the very revealing dress was Lettie. When my mind registered that it was Lettie, the room seemed to fade away, and all I could focus on was her. The colorful lights of the venue danced on the sequins and were mesmerizing. I felt a flutter in my chest, a mixture of admiration, attraction, and a touch of nervousness.
I stood next to them and listened to Lettie tell Ian about something that had happened to her. She lit up, her laugh contagious, and a smile started to creep up on my face. Lettie turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw me. "Alex Turner!" she exclaimed, a bit too enthusiastically, her words slightly slurred.
"Lettie, Ian," I said to them. Raising my glass. Lettie and Ian raised their glasses to mine as well.
"You look fucking hot. I'm an outstanding designer," Lettie shouted. I had to laugh. Lettie gave Ian a hug, and I could hear her thank him.
"I expect I'll be on the best-dressed list," I teased. "And you... You look gorgeous." Lettie blushed.
"See, I told you Latte had you taken care of, mate," Ian smacked my back and went off to talk with someone who was beckoning him from across the room, and before Lettie could scold him for calling her Latte.
