James Cymone, a beacon of femininity in the realm of fashion, finds herself ensnared in the pulsating embrace of family ties. Bound closely to her cousin, the illustrious Andre Cymone, James comes to see fate orchestrate a charged encounter between...
Conceited, maybe, but damn, I look flawless right now. Stepping into the Palladium, I hold my head high, shades on, strutting as if I'm on the catwalk.
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While most girls are still rocking bell-bottoms and dresses that could double as tents, I'm out here pushing mini skirts, straight leg jeans, and floral patterns like there's no tomorrow.
Glancing to my right, I spot a girl who looks a year or two younger than me, practically bouncing with excitement, wearing an explosion of colors and patterns. I slide my glasses down to the tip of my nose and give her a once-over.
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"Oh my gosh, are you James?" she asks, her Brooklyn accent cute as a button, stars shining in her eyes.
Wow, she's adorable. "Yes, I am. I love your shirt. What's your name?" I ask, air-kissing both sides of her face.
"I'm Alexa Belocio, the winner of the meet Prince contest," she says, practically bubbling over with excitement. "Now I get to meet you too. This is so cool!"
Chuckling at her enthusiasm, I spot Belinda, Prince's stylist, in the distance.
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There are always stunning women surrounding Prince, so when I first met Belinda, I wasn't surprised. She catches my eye and waves me over, smiling. Turning back to Alexa, I extend my hand and say, "Come on, Alexa. You can sit with me during the show." Leading her over to Belinda, I say, "Hey, Bel, I found your contest winner."
