Little Favours

Chapter 5

A week after the festival, Alisa had a new mission in life: avoid Tom Kingsley like he was the plague, finals season, and a blackout on the hottest day of July combined. The rumor mill at the university had already been in full swing before the festival, but after she and Tom were spotted leaving the same room alone? Oh, that was fuel for the fire.

And by fire, she meant the wildfire of speculation that they were, in fact, a secret couple.

"Did you hear?" a girl from literature whispered in the corridor as Alisa passed by, clearly not caring if she did. "Alisa and Tom. Who would've thought?"

Alisa ducked her head and picked up her pace, wishing the hallway to the university exit was much nearer.

She and Tom hadn't really talked since the incident, nor had he posted anything to clear their names. But why would he? There was nothing going on between them. Alisa, on the other hand, was left to dodge prying glances, deal with friends' not-so-subtle questions, and listen to strangers' whispered theories as she walked past. But now that the festival was over, she figured that their paths wouldn't cross again anytime soon. Tom Kingsley would officially be back in her rearview mirror.

It was barely noon and she had so many things in her head already. Well, not really, just two. This and the new tenant moving to her complex, but even the latter wasn't much of a problem with her.

All she had to do was wait it out, keep her head down, and focus on something that really mattered: her upcoming internship interview after lunch. She had applied to Echo, the most prestigious fashion publication in the region. The company had reached out to her just a day after the festival, and by some funny twist of fate—or cosmic irony—they'd set her interview for 3 PM. Alisa felt her stomach churn as she went over her portfolio one last time.

She arrived at Echo magazine's lobby a full thirty minutes early, her mind buzzing with rehearsed answers. She clutched her portfolio to her chest like a shield, hoping it would somehow exude professionalism on her behalf.

When HR finally called her in, Alisa was greeted by a woman named Claire, whose warm smile eased some of her tension. Claire glanced over her resume, nodding approvingly as she flipped through Alisa's portfolio.

"So, Ms. Dumont, I'm really impressed with the pieces you showcased at the festival," Claire said, looking up with a kind expression that made Alisa feel like a peer, not just another nervous candidate. "I saw the photos, and I have to say, your work has that boldness we're really looking for."

"Oh, thank you so much," Alisa replied, trying to keep her voice steady, though inside she was doing tiny, awkward celebratory dances. "The festival was a... an experience. But it really pushed me to experiment and adapt, especially when things got, uh, unpredictable."

Claire chuckled. "In fashion, unpredictable is practically the dress code. Lucky for you, we want someone who's flexible, someone who can handle those curveballs." She flipped to another page, pausing to admire a particularly detailed sketch. "Tell me, what inspires you? What's your process when you're creating?"

Alisa leaned forward, feeling her confidence grow. "I usually start with a concept that has a story behind it. I think about who would wear the piece and why it would mean something to them. I want my designs to feel like they belong to someone's life, not just the runway."

Claire gave a thoughtful nod, making a note in her book. "I love that. Honestly, I think you'd fit in well here."

Just as Alisa felt herself exhaling in relief, the door to the office creaked open, and in walked looking every bit the stereotype of a fashion executive—sharp glasses, all-black suit, and an air that suggested he could end careers with a single raised eyebrow.