the IT girl

The Runway in Morocco

Lily's suitcase glided smoothly over the polished tiles of the airport as she made her way toward the gate. Morocco. The name itself held an air of mystery and beauty—desert landscapes, vibrant colors, and an allure she couldn't wait to explore. This runway show was special, and although the excitement of traveling for work usually invigorated her, this time it felt like a welcome distraction from everything back in Brazil.

The past few days had been a whirlwind. After her coffee with Lando, her mind had been in overdrive. Questions swirled—about her feelings, her trust issues, and her career. This trip was the perfect opportunity to focus on something she had full control over: her work.

She checked her phone before boarding the plane and saw a message from Mia: Mia: Have fun in Morocco, babe! Show them how it's done. And remember to enjoy yourself, too.

Lily smiled, appreciating Mia's always upbeat energy. She pocketed her phone and boarded the plane, ready to dive into this new experience.

When Lily arrived in Marrakesh, she was immediately struck by the city's energy. The rich scent of spices lingered in the air as she made her way through the bustling streets, her eyes taking in the ancient architecture, the winding souks, and the vibrant atmosphere that seemed to pulse with life. The golden hues of the city matched the warmth of the sun, and she felt her body relaxing as she absorbed it all.

She arrived at her hotel, a beautiful riad nestled in the heart of the city, with intricate mosaics and a tranquil courtyard. The peaceful surroundings helped to settle her nerves as she mentally prepared for the runway show.

The day of the show arrived, and the venue was nothing short of breathtaking. The runway was set outdoors in a stunning courtyard surrounded by tall palm trees and draped with Moroccan lanterns that would glow as the evening set in. There was a soft breeze, and the setting sun cast everything in a warm, golden light. It felt surreal, like walking through a dream.

Backstage was a frenzy of activity—designers, makeup artists, and fellow models hurried around in preparation. Lily sat in front of the makeup mirror, her usual mix of nerves and excitement bubbling inside her. She had walked countless runways, but each show still brought that exhilarating rush. Today, she wore a flowing, hand-embroidered gown in deep reds and golds, with intricate details that reflected the beauty of Moroccan craftsmanship.

As she slipped into her gown, the fabric felt luxurious against her skin. The dress hugged her in all the right places, and the golden accents shimmered as she moved. She caught her reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. This was where she thrived—on the runway, in front of an audience, under the lights. It was her escape from everything else.

With the final adjustments made and the music building in the background, Lily prepared to step onto the runway. The air was buzzing with anticipation, and as the first model walked out, the crowd erupted in applause.

Her heart raced as her turn approached. She took one last steadying breath and stepped out onto the runway, her face a mask of cool confidence. The audience was a blur of faces and cameras, but all Lily could feel was the rhythm of her steps and the energy of the show. She walked with grace and power, owning every step, every turn, as the soft evening light illuminated her gown.

The show was a success, and as she made her final walk down the runway for the designer's bow, the crowd stood in ovation. Lily felt a sense of pride wash over her. This was what she had come here for, to shine, to leave behind the questions and uncertainties for a moment and focus on the thing she loved most—her work.

Later that night, after the show had ended and the guests mingled under the stars at the after-party, Lily found a quiet corner of the venue. She leaned against a pillar, looking out at the city's skyline and the twinkling lights of Marrakesh. The night felt calm, and for the first time in days, she let herself relax completely.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, pulling her back to reality. It was a message from Lando:
Lando: How's Morocco? Hope the show went well. We should talk when you're back.

She stared at the message for a moment, her heart fluttering. He hadn't pressured her, hadn't demanded anything—just a simple message checking in. She didn't know what to make of it yet, but something inside her softened.

For now, though, she would let the night carry her, basking in the success of the show and the magic of Morocco.