With Fear or Without

37- Fashion Show

Splitting up from the other three Champions, Remie led the wary and anxious trio through the city. They trudged along in silence before Charlie asked a familiar question.

"Who are all these people? They're not all Champions, are they?"

Remie chuckled, glancing to Cleo. They both thought back to the time the two of them had a conversation that started almost the exact same way.

"No, they're not," Remie said, returning the occasional wave or nod of recognition from passersby. "Some came to support the cause. Some couldn't care less, they just wanted to live somewhere other than Cenilorn."

"Is the city that bad?" Andy asked.

"Is any city that bad?" Remie countered. She shrugged. "It depends on what side of the city you live in. Where you grow up, What you've got. Some people just wanted a fresh start. They've helped us build a community here."

Cleo spent the rest of their walk daydreaming about each person they passed. What their story was and what drove them away from the big city. She wondered how many of them were actually here to support the Goldari, how many really believed in them. She couldn't imagine any of them wouldn't. Then again, there was a whole city of people who didn't.

Soon enough, Remie stopped in front of a two story cream building with arched windows and a small silver knocker adorning the door. After Remie used it to knock three times, a stout old couple opened the door.

The woman, her eyes enlarged behind thick spectacles, reached up and attempted to flatten her gray curls. She beamed at her guests.

"Hello! Yes, they said you would be coming 'round today, right on time, of course." She patted the man next to her on the shoulder. "Let them in, honey."

The man squinted at them, his lips pressed together as if trying to keep liquid from trickling past them. He wrinkled his large nose and retreated back into the house, leaving the door open and grunting, "Ach, not again."

Cleo, completely lost, raising her eyebrows towards Remie, who was gazing into the home with an amused smile and an expression of wistful recognition. She led the hesitant trio into the house.

"Good to see you again, too," Remie said with a grin at the man now settling himself into a large armchair. He returned his own not altogether unfriendly nod and hint of a smile.

The home they entered was a roomy space, clean and cozy. The living room they walked through had a crackling fireplace and a rustic coffee table in front of the couch and armchair. The woman popped her head around a corner up ahead. "This way! Everything is upstairs."

The couple seemed like the epitome of the grumpy-cheery dynamic couple of grandparents.

"What in the world are we doing here?" Charlie hissed to Cleo, who shrugged helplessly.

They trailed behind Remie as she led them through the house. For once, she seemed to be enjoying their confusion and satisfied that the next few moments were a surprise.

They stopped in a huge workshop, one that probably took up half the house by itself. One wall was covered top to bottom in fabric; shelves and selves of every sort of fabric organized neatly in an impressive rainbow. Another wall was covered in tools and sewing materials; everything from rulers to rotary blades were hung up on the wall, everything from buttons to zippers to sequins arranged in containers. The third wall was lined by a table holding three different sewing machines, each growing in size and complexity. Above the machines was a large cork board covered in drawings and sketches of every kind of clothing. Fancy evening gowns, dressy suits, uniforms, even sleepwear, all planned out in rough pencil with notes here and there in small, precise handwriting. An island sat in the center of the room, the surface made of cutting board material with measurements on each edge.