Hijacked.

Roller coaster.

My pencil danced across the blank page and brought my ideas to life. I was sketching designs -something I hadn't done in while.

"What are you doing?" Dylan asked peering over my shoulder.

"Drawing. Sketching."

"What for?"

"Not sure yet." I replied, then it hit me. "Actually, I want to make a collection called H.H.H. Which stands for healing hurt hearts. I want to make girls feel beautiful even if they feel like hiding their scars or showing them. Too many of them are tired of hiding behind frumpy clothes so I want them to be able to express themselves with these pieces" I said.

The collection had mostly brown and black clothes to prevent the stains from foundation or concealer covering their cuts from being obvious. There was also a beautiful white lace top which signified freedom. It was white because I wanted it to deter girls from cutting. The collection was not going to be for cutters alone even though it was dedicated to them. Most of the funds raised were to be put into some sort of support for the hurt hearts -which I hadn't yet thought about. The collection was split into two parts: budding and blooming. Budding was for the people recovering and consisted of brown and black while blooming was for the people who had recovered and had only white clothes. Haute Kouturá was to be a major part of this dream.

"I know I'm only 18 but I can do it dad," I said.

"You will run Haute Kouturá? Are you sure? I haven't signed the papers yet but I'm afraid Rhonda would want to go to court."

"It doesn't matter dad. If God is for us no one can be against us. I'm ready to go to court and I'm ready to fight with all that is in me."

I heard my dad sigh on the other end of the phone. "Darling, we can start a new fashion company. You could be the founder. I'll give you the money. Just save me the stress. Name any amount," he said.

I shook my head because my dad didn't understand this was more than the money and the company, it was about carrying on a legacy.

"No. I don't want that. I want a lawyer, and the documents. And please I need you to support me and be here with me because I have no idea how to handle a court case. I need you. Promise you'll be here."

After a long pause he finally said "I promise."

"Yay! I love you dad! Bye." I screamed jumping up and down clapping.

"Thanks for the meal," Dylan said.

"You're welcome boy" I said patting his head then fell into the chair.

Dylan hovered over my face with his tongue hanging out dangerously close to my face. "Ew! Down boy! Sit!" I joked while holding out my arms and squirming. He managed to lick the side of my face.

"Dylan Oluwatobi Olorunfemi!" I screamed.

He laughed so hard he fell on the floor. Dylan's Yoruba names always got my tongue in a twist. He was a British-Nigerian and had the good looks to match. He had skin as light as cappuccino and he had green eyes.

"You're getting better at that. I think we are getting closer to the day I'll take you to my parents" he joked and I rolled my eyes.

"They know me already. They love me." I pointed out.

He simply laughed until I understood what he meant. When Nigerians say they would 'take you home/to their parents' it means you're about to get married. I didn't object, I just sat there and smiled at him. Dylan and I weren't in a relationship but i didn't mind being 'taken home'.

He held two tickets in front of my face. I peered at them closer then screamed! Front row for the Alexander Wang fashion show in Paris!

"Dylan you're awesome!" I exclaimed. "I better get packing now!"