high enough 𖤐 tristan duffy

1

I stared into the mirror in disgust. What was wrong with me? Almost everything. My arms are weird. My face is square. My body is just weird. Why did I have to look like this?

My thoughts are interrupted by Mallory, Dad's newest assistant. She smiled at me and squinted through her black framed glasses.

"Will asked if you could come downstairs to the catwalk area."

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"He didn't say. But he did seem persistent." I smiled and nodded as she closed the door to leave. Please, God, don't make me have to confiscate all the models drugs; they get mad...

I put on my worn out but trusty white sneakers and some moon and sun earrings. The elevator was out of order so I took the two flights of stairs down into the main lobby.

Though it's not really my thing, I have to admit, the place looked glamorous. A lit up catwalk, rows of beautiful golden chairs, decorations dangling from anywhere possible. Dad waved me over from the broken-down elevator, standing next to that Vogue editor from a few days ago. I wasn't really listening to their lengthy conversation about embroidery and pantsuits.

"There's my girl! How was the flight in? I'm sorry but I had to take an earlier one, did you brother get here ok too?" He asked, swinging an arm over my shoulder and kissing the top of my head.

"Yeah, it was all good. We grabbed some food at the airport, though, I hope that was ok-"

"Sir, we have someone claiming to be a guest here. You need to come sort her out," A guard interrupted. He sighed and walked over to the podium with his editor friend.

As I turned to walk away, I caught a glimpse of the supposed unruly guest. She had wild hair and a cigarette still hanging out of her mouth.

She kind of looks like me in the morning.

I saw desperation in her eyes, sadness too. Dad ushered her away and she shook her head as she walked off, not before glaring at me like I was the one who caused this.

"Piper, wait!" I felt Lachlan grab my hand.

"Oh, hey Lach. What's wrong?"

"Can you sit with Dad tonight at the show? I know your not into it but I made a friend. I want to show her around the hotel!"

"Oh, a her? She your girlfriend?" I joked. He smiled and playfully punched my leg.

"Fine, but only for you little bro. Go and find your friend before I change my mind."

He ran away excitedly. I smiled at his innocence. If only he knew what was coming.

The show began a few minutes after and I found myself beside Dad, bored out of my mind already. What's so special about some twig-looking models in clothes my Dad drew that only socialites wear in public?

"Oh come on, Pipes! He's asked us to come, why shouldn't we?" Kyle laughs. I groan and bury my head in my hands.

"Because it's so boring! We sit around for hours watching underweight girls walk around in my Dad's clothes. I might die from boredom if I go to another this YEAR!" This made him laugh harder. Kyle wrapped his arms around me and swayed a little.

"Please? I'll probably never get to go to another..." he pouted like a child. I rolled my eyes and groaned again.

"Fine! But only for you," I grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Thinking back to our time together, I felt a tear roll down my cheek and drop onto my shirt. Before anyone noticed I wiped them away and rubbed my eyes.

"Will has booked Tristan Duffy for the runway, you can always expect a show with him..." I heard the editor whisper to her friend.

As if on cue, a gorgeous man strutted out of the dressing room in red attire with grace. I watched in awe at him, he was nothing like I'd ever seen before. He stumbled a little and actually grabbed someone's champagne, eliciting a giggle from me. My Dad sighed and rubbed his temples. Still, I smiled and watched the drama unfold. Tristan manages to piss of a guy after kissing his girl, and trips over in front of me.

"Tristan, get backstage... now!" My Dad whispered angrily. He stood up slowly and I locked eyes with him. For a moment, the rage faded away and he seemed calm. I continued to stare until he had left the runway and was in the backstage area.

"I'm sorry honey, I'll be right back." Dad stormed after him and slammed the door open. I was sick of this show after a few more minutes and decided to sneak off back to my room.

Walking up the stairs, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings and accidentally bumped into someone.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" I sigh and look up. It's the woman from earlier in the night. She looks like she's been crying. Or doing drugs. Or both.

"It's fine," I started walking away, "Wait! Did you see a police officer down there? Dark hair? He-" I immediately realised who she meant.

"Oh, yeah, that John Lowe guy. He's sat with my Dad and his friend." She nodded and walked out of sight.

Not to be that person, but she looks like the type of girl who avoids the police. Why was she looking for them?

After walking up the rest of the stairs I stopped in front of my door and pulled my key from my back pocket. Before trying to use it, however, I noticed the door was cracked open slightly.

Oh God, please don't tell me I've been robbed!

Slowly I lifted my ear to the door and listened for any voices. Nothing but shuffling and some sort of male huffing. I peeked my head into the room.

Tristan was rifling through my drawers like he had lost a million dollars in the room. He sighed after showering the last drawer and slid down the wall. I watched him cover his face with his hands and breathe heavily into his palms.

"Are you alright?" I whisper as I step inside. He looked up at me and tried to smile.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't..." he trailed off. Within a few seconds I crossed the room and sat beside him.

"You don't have to sit with me. I-I shouldn't even be in here, I'm sorry-" I grabbed his arm as he went to stand up.

"Wait, no!" He stared at me confused. Then his eyes softened and he sat back down.

"Alright."