One More Chance

One

Milan-

Fashion has been my passion since I was a little girl, watching Naomi on the run way always excited me. Just to create looks, dress models, model myself and my passion never changed. I'm 19 years old and pursing a degree in fashion design and business management.

Today December 12th and it was was the day some of my work would be worn on the run way by models at New York's Fashion Week.

The models rushed forward and back behind the stage preparing while artists performed . I helped every way possible, trying to get everything to perfection, after all the world was watching. "Come one guys line up!" I said putting them in order.
"This is it" I whispered to myself as I stared at my craft and I must say I was proud of myself.

Butterflies swarmed my stomach as they gave the models the okay to walk out.
"Said I'm never lackin, always pistol packin with the automatic we gone send them to heaven.
Wait, wait, wait , wait. Aye, Aye, Woooo"
I heard an unknown voice sing as a dope beat dropped.
Interesting choice of music for a fashion show but I liked it.

I walked closer to the front trying to watch my models and catch a glimpse of the rapper who had and extremely deep voice. Paying too much attention to the rapper I forgot about the models for a split second and that's when it went crazy.

Gina, the second to last model was messed up completely. The assistants must have dressed her wrong and I was at a loss for words as I looked at her walking down the cat walk but she did it with confidence I must say.

Everyone looked at her with wide eyes as I face palmed myself, I slipped up.

After my part of the show I stood back stage a bit stressed but proud. I sat down on the make up chairs that was for models because I refused to go sit in the crowd. You're probably saying 'one bad look' it's not just one bad look it's one bad look that I'm gonna hear about from my professor, but I guess I'll be fine.

"Yo, Pop you killed that shit man. You really bodied dat show." I heard someone said but I kept my head propped up and my eyes closed and continued listening.

"Nigga Asap Rocky was fuckin with my shit, nigga Meek Mill , 50 too, damn" I'm guessing Pop said.

"Yo look at shawty over there, she straight?" He questioned while chuckling low.

"I'm great actually, thanks for your concern" I replied remaining in my comfy position and eyes still closed.
"What you doin in the back? And not in the show?" He asked, now coming closer to me, I could sense it.
"I don't think I gotta answer that but like I said, thanks for your concern"
I replied now opening my eyes and looking up to him.
He was cute with his cornrows or whatever.

I stared for a few seconds and turned away, trying not to seem weird.
"Attitude on ten, but ight." He said taking a seat next to me with his friend.
"You enjoyed my performance shawty?" I looked at him in the mirror
"Christian Dior Dior " I said in a deep voice mocking him as he laughed.
"Yeahhh, I'm up in all the stores"
I laughed at his response.
"Yeah I fuck with it, it's nice to hear something decent from a New York rapper, I thought I had to listen to Biggie forever but you got a new supporter here Pop." I said and smiled at him.
"Thanks Ma, but aye lemme get your number or something, I gotta leave soon and yk I gotta keep in touch with my new fan" he said standing up.

"Ight bet" I put my number into his phone.
"Milan, you got a fine name. Ight imma catch you later Milan" He left with his friend and I was smiling hard.

I thought this night was horrible and ruined but at least one good thing came from it.
I met Mr. Christian Dior Dior.