Hate To Love You... (Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader)

Chapter 7

The buzz of excitement within the workplace hit me like a freight train as soon as I open the door. Fashion designers were hunched over their sketchbooks, worrying over their next garment. Seamstresses and clothing designers were busying themselves over their sewing machines, refusing to let anyone distract them. Make up artists were buzzing, squealing with excitement toward one another and jumping with joy. Even interns were happily skipping through the corridors, anticipating what's going to happen an what all the commotion is for.

Thinking nothing of it, I run my fingers through my hair with a small shake of my head, expecting the news to be something rather light than exhilarating. People often made a big deal over nothing. Last time the atmosphere was this excited, was when we got a dishwasher in the staff room. Which, to be fair, was a great positive so everyone didn't leave their manky mugs stained with coffee on the side. Our staff room was nothing special, the coffee machine had broken recently due to human default (no one had owned up to it though) and the kettle was close to dying.

Maybe we finally got a new coffee machine.

Smiling to myself, I wrap my hand around the handle of the door and push it open, expecting to see my client ready to have their makeup done in the chair. Only to realise that it's empty. Not a single person in sight. No model. No belongings either. The room was completely bare save for the reams of makeup, a sofa, a table and a vanity mirror with lights around it... was I not supposed to come in today? Do I even have a model today? Humming in confusion, I shut the door and head toward my mentor.

Miss Juniper always knew what was going on. She was the first to know everything. The boss and her got on really well. She knew who was getting fired, when they were hiring a new model or a new makeup artist, when someone was getting a pay rise or a big advance. After all, she was rather friendly with the boss (take that as you will). She was a lovely woman, in her mid forties, who always put others before herself despite her laid back nature. I don't think I've ever seen the woman stressed.

"Ah! There you are!" Miss Juniper hums with a smile, nursing an early morning coffee, her eyes shimmering with something that I could only describe as pure excitement, "I have some news for you!"

"What is it?" I ask softly, confused as well as intrigued, running my fingers over the spine of my sketchbook, biting my lip nervously as she clears her throat, "Is it good news?"

"Of course it is, don't worry your little head," she says patting my (h/c) hair gently, sending me a huge smile as she hands me a folder, unable to contain her excitement as she squeals gently, "It's very, very good news,"

"What's this?" I ask tilting my head as I open the folder gently, a stone slamming into the bottom of my stomach as I gawk at the title, "O — oh my god... I — is this for real?"

"It is!" She squeals happily, clapping her hands in front of her person with a huge smile, "I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!"

My eyes glued to the contents with wide eyes. It had my name on the front. Meaning that I finally got promoted! This folder, in the future, will hold many more of my designs. Inside the folder, revealed all the designs that I had created for this new model as well as the upcoming clothing that the said model will wear. The grin now pushing across my lips begun to make my cheeks hurt. I couldn't pull my attention away from it. I couldn't believe this was happening! Was I dreaming?

For months and months I've been trying to boost my post at the modelling agency. To show the bosses and the fashion designers that I can produce styles that look amazing. Working hours on end. Even working through the late hours of the evening until the early hours of the next morning. And finally. Finally.