SCARLET MEETS MILA

6

The air is thick with an undercurrent of authority, a slithering arm of power that radiates around me as I stand beside an elevator full of people. I haven't built up the courage to enter an open cart yet, the swarms of tight suits and their important decisions making me feel unworthy of sharing the same space.

"You did not!" Long legs and a blonde up-do giggle beside me, awaiting the next ride to the top floors of this glass empire. "You hooked up with Ridley?"

"Obviously", another girl winks, her smirk eliciting a gasp from the girl beside her. "I couldn't turn that man down if I tried!"

As they disappear behind the metal doors, I pull anxiously at my shirt collar. I feel so out of place. I've never hooked up like that. I don't even go out and party. I take a deep breath and convince myself that the next cart will be my ride. The cold doors reveal a large mirrored box, the gentle white lighting and scented aura inviting me inside.

Soon after, a mound of bodies flood in behind me. I swallow hard and slip my thumbs into the straps of my backpack. I close my eyes and remember the words Maisie had told me earlier this morning: 'Don't let anyone make you cry.' believe it or not, her advice is welcomed and scarily relevant.

I'm shocked to see that the entirety of the cart empties before reaching the top floor, the chaotic rush silencing as the satisfying ding signals my arrival. I step out onto the floor only to find myself gasping for breath "Oh god", I mumble, scanning the vast open space filled with scurrying models and designers.

I swallow hard for the second time today, forcing my legs to walk forward enough to be seen. A few girls turn their heads back and cock a brow, their expressions cold and uninviting. Already, I can feel the hierarchy of status, models vs anyone else in the world. I look down at the floor and try to find myself before continuing to walk.

"Eva! It's past eight, you're late!" A well-groomed man barks, holding a tape measure between his fingertips as if ready to use it as a weapon. "I need you for fittings in five minutes. Be ready!"

Harlow told me I'd be working for a sassy designer named Fox. She told me that he would likely be yelling at someone or poking needles into a living mannequin. I cock my brow and examine him for a moment behind a nearby pillar. He's both yelling and shoving pins into a tall brunette.

I guess it's now or never.

I head towards the man and breathe deep, clutching harder at the straps of my backpack as I interrupt his busy demeanour. "Fox?" I stammer, waving a hand to ask for his attention. "Hi, I'm-

"Late, yes." the man shakes his head and presses a pin between his lips. "Set your stuff down. I need you in zone six."

"Zone six?" I screw my brows together and glance around. "Where is that exactly?"

A pair of bright eyes look up at me with a hint of blatant disgust. "Girl, really?"

My chest pauses. "I don't know", I mumble, looking around for a second time, begging to find clarity in my new surroundings. "I've never-

"Ember!" His rolling eyes shout, "Show the new girl where she's supposed to be? I'm busy over here!"

I have little time to question the man's judgment before a tall redhead with curly hair pulls me towards a group of nearly naked women strapping heels to their slender ankles. "Hurry up! We're already behind", she pushes. "Ellie, grab her some heels."

"Wait!" I yell quickly, realising I have been mistaken for another magazine wannabe. "I'm here to see Fox? I'm his new assistant?" Ember has already disappeared, and with every fibre of my body in total panic, I scramble away from the floor and glue myself to a nearby wall.

"Mila?" I open my eyes to see Harlow looking somewhat concerned before me. "You ok, girlie?"

I shrug my shoulders and look at Fox, now tightening a bra strap. "I tried to introduce myself, but I think he assumed I was a model?"

Harlow chuckles. "Well, if that isn't a compliment, huh?"

I look up at her and smile fondly. "I'm nothing like these girls." my chest relaxes. "God knows why he thought I was part of their world."

She shrugs. "You're a pretty face, Mila. It's an easy mistake to make." I choose to stay silent. "Come, you can put your stuff in my office."

"Thanks." I drop my bag beside a large unit filled with folders while the woman reaches for a black card beside her computer. "What's this?" I ask as she hands it into my palm.

"Company card", she smiles. "You're going to run for coffee a lot. Make sure to get the receipts and file them over here," she points at a black letter tray behind me. "Scarlet tracks every expense that leaves her accounts. It's not worth the trouble of being forgetful, I can assure you."

My eyes widen. "Isn't she a billionaire? What's a cup of coffee going to do?" My anxious laugh fills the room.

Harlow chuckles back. "When you track, you can budget. That girl's account history is flawless. The odd coffee adds up! Anyway, let's go and introduce you properly."

I nod and tuck the card into the side of my backpack before following Harlow onto the floor. I avert my gaze towards the office where I'd met Scarlet for the first time. It's closed today, lights are on, but there is no indication of a welcome sign. She must be busy, hiding away from the chaos that plagues the marble stone beneath me.

"Fox!" Harlow yells, forcing the man's eyes from a girl's hip. "Mila James, your new assistant?"

"Shit", he pulls away from his current project and walks towards us in a rush. "Some warning would be nice, Harlow! I almost had her squeezed into a corset for Maria."

Harlow shakes her head and folds her arms. "I told you she'd be here", she defends. "If you looked up from the girls for a second, you would have recognised the petite brunette I promised you!"

My eyes widen, the back and forth nothing like I've ever experienced. "I'm too busy to look up", Fox tuts. "Scar will have my head if these test shots don't reach her by lunchtime!"

"You best hurry it along then! Mila will help." as soon as Harlow mentions my name, I pull my shoulder blades back into a pinch. "Be nice, you need her!"

Fox shakes his head. "It's not me she needs to worry about", he huffs. "Follow me" I follow behind and try to ignore the eyes that follow me. Within a few seconds, a trash bag is planted into my palm. "I need you to go and pick up the trash, empty coffee cups and tags, anything that doesn't need to be here, get it gone!"

I nod, looking down at my watch with a slight apprehension about my ten-hour shift.