⋆ 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 ⋆ 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼. 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

ｖｉｅ ｃéｌèｂｒｅ

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The flashes were relentless, blinding Violet as she made her way through the chaos of New York Fashion Week. The cameras were nothing new to her; in fact, they had become just another part of her routine. But the overwhelming wave of flashes felt like they were cutting through the layers of calm she had spent days trying to maintain. Each step she took on the cobbled streets seemed heavier than the last, not from the weight of her designer heels but from the mental load she carried. The thoughts in her head were endless, a constant cycle of deadlines, fittings, runway schedules, and the interviews she still had to navigate. As her name echoed through the crowd and the camera shutters continued to snap, she couldn’t help but feel the strain. She was in New York, center stage, where every designer wanted to be. But something felt off.

"Violet, here! Please look at here!...

Oh God, if Nicholas were here, everything would be calmer... she thought.

At the same time, on the opposite coast, Nicholas sat quietly on set in Los Angeles, waiting for his next scene. The crew moved around him, setting up the lighting, adjusting the cameras, but his thoughts were nowhere near the set. His mind was back in New York, with Violet. It had been over a week since he last saw her, and he was beginning to realize just how much her absence was affecting him. He'd spent most of the week feeling unsettled, like something important was missing. Now, another week would pass without her, and the hollow feeling in his chest deepened. How had it come to this?

It was strange to him, the realization that his life seemed quieter, almost too quiet, without her around. Her energy, her laughter—it had become something he looked forward to, something he depended on more than he wanted to admit. Violet had a way of filling up the spaces around her, of making everything more vibrant, and without her, Nicholas felt like he was simply going through the motions. His friends on set noticed the change in him too, though he tried to keep things light. He couldn’t explain why he felt so lost, why her absence made the days feel longer and the work feel heavier. But it was there, gnawing at him.

As the hours passed and he sat waiting for his turn on camera, his thoughts kept drifting back to her. What was she doing now? Did she feel the same?  I mean, she was thinking about him? How could she if she's so busy...He couldn’t shake the feeling that they had crossed some invisible line in the last few weeks. They had gone from co-stars to...well, them—at least in his mind. But he wasn’t sure how to define it, and maybe that’s what bothered him the most. Without her, things felt incomplete, as if he had forgotten how to live without her constant presence beside him. And he wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.

How could anyone feel so alone with so many people around them? That was the thought running through Violet’s mind as she stood behind the opening curtain of the show. The buzz of excitement, the energy of Fashion Week, the murmurs of the crowd—all of it should have made her feel alive, but instead, there was an emptiness gnawing at her. She had everything: the lights, the attention, her friends waiting for her outside, the privilege of being the focus of such a huge event. Yet, it all felt hollow, like something vital was missing.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair in place, but her eyes gave away the truth—she wasn’t fully here. She knew it. She couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong, though. Was it exhaustion? Was it the relentless pressure? She shook her head, trying to focus, but the feeling only grew stronger.