Descubrimientos (Faye Yoko)

Parte 3

Hello again! What do you think of the story so far? It's a bit slow, but I hope to write several chapters! :) Thank you for reading!

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Yoko took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart as she pressed the elevator button. Ling's exhaustive instructions still echoed in her mind, tightening her chest with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Today was officially her first day as Faye's assistant; everything had happened so quickly that she still couldn't process it. When the elevator doors opened, her footsteps echoed on the floor like a reflection of her wavering thoughts.

Upon entering Faye's office, she was greeted not only by an elegant space but by a palpably dense atmosphere filled with Faye's distinctive, luxurious fragrance. Faye's gaze was fixated on the documents covering her expansive desk, as if she were analyzing each letter with an intensity that was almost intimidating. Finally, her voice cut through the silence as she noticed Yoko entering: "It's 9 AM; what should I do now?" she said without looking up.

Yoko felt a heavy pressure in her chest, a sensation that reminded her of how recent her arrival in this new world was. With a soft yet steady voice, she replied, "You have a meeting in 30 minutes with the designers to finalize details... and decide which will be the new centerpiece of the collection." At the end of her sentence, her voice trembled, aware that she wore a valuable dress, an investment from Faye herself, symbolizing both her fear and aspiration in this new adventure.

"Very well," Faye replied, finally lifting her gaze for the first time. In her eyes, there was a flash of almost dangerous interest as she extended a folder filled with previously selected sketches. "Take these designs and choose one, improve it so that it becomes the new centerpiece. You have 30 minutes." The order fell upon Yoko like a weight, stifling any hint of protest. Faye's gaze was unyielding, and the fear of failure coiled in her throat, reminding her of what Ling had warned her about questioning her boss's decisions. With trembling hands, she took the sketches and tried to clear her mind.

Dazed, Yoko looked toward a small desk at the far end of the office, where Faye had pointed with an authoritative gesture. "That's your workspace now. Make sure not to make noise and not to disturb me," she said in a tone that allowed for no discussion. Although the desk was small and simple, it became clear that it could either become her refuge or her prison, depending on how well she handled the pressure.

Immersing herself in her task, her fingers began skimming through the sketches, analyzing each line and color. Her mind spun like a Ferris wheel, aware that her future could hinge on this choice, a pressure that made her oscillate between hope and fear. Despite her background in management, she had spent enough time with her friend Orm, a fierce fashion critic, to understand that creativity could be the key to opening doors. The sound of the clock ticking became a drum resonating in her mind, counting down the seconds-each tick a reminder of her anxiety.

Near the end of the deadline, Yoko took a deep breath, shook her head, and examined her work with a renewed sense of pride. She approached Faye just before the meeting, her heart pounding in rhythm with her steps. Faye barely glanced her way, and the discontent Yoko felt was palpable. However, the slight grimace of displeasure from Yoko did not go unnoticed, causing Faye to momentarily wonder if there was a hint of vulnerability in this new assistant-something rarely seen in the fragile world of fashion.

Both women left the office and headed to the meeting room. As they crossed the threshold, Yoko felt the tension in the air enveloping her, like a heavy cloud foretelling a storm. The lead designer, a middle-aged woman with designer glasses that seemed to give her an air of superiority, nearly fell apart upon learning the fate of the original dress. Her eyes, sharp as knives, bore into Yoko, making her feel small, vulnerable, with an uncertain fate weighing on her shoulders. But when she finally presented the sketch she had selected, along with her detailed suggestions, she watched as the hostility slowly faded into curiosity, and then into genuine admiration reflected in the woman's smile. It was a small triumph, but one that meant a lot amid the pressure.