(N.T. HOT FASHION)
Apartment of Hitomi and Nami, April 9th, night.
That night, the stars shone brighter than ever, covering the sky in silver light. In a city where the sky was usually gray from the old coal mines, nights like this lifted everyone's Friday spirit.
Everyone's, except Hitomi's. The model was in her apartment, relaxing in a hot bath, the window open to the starry view. But her expression, with furrowed brows and tightly shut eyes, showed anything but calm.
"What's with that tense face? Don't tell me you don't wanna go to Fashion Week?" teased Nami, stepping into the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her gaze fixed on her wife.
"Of course I do. But the phone won't stop ringing. That Vacchiano…" muttered Hitomi, still sulking.
Nami walked closer to the bathtub, dropping her towel before stepping in. She sat facing her wife, cupped her cheeks, and gave a soft smile.
"Oh, forget him for tonight. Let's just stay together. You'll be away all week."
"Hmmm, fine…" Hitomi's irritation softened into a faint smile, understanding her lover's intentions.
Nami brought her face close and kissed her. The two stayed together under the starlight before the long trip ahead.
April 12th, 7 a.m., airport
The next morning, Hitomi boarded her flight to the country's fashion capital. It was just an hour's flight, but by bus or car it would've taken between nine and sixteen hours, and she was not one to waste time.
The plane flew over the sprawling city. Skyscrapers filled the horizon, a place alive day and night, a melting pot of cultures and nations.
Once she landed, Hitomi quickly grabbed a taxi to her hotel, hoping to avoid the press. Tonight would be a long one, and all she wanted was rest and preparation.
IGTM Shopping Center, 7 p.m., Pre-event
The stage was set inside an annex of the city's most exclusive shopping mall. Lined only with luxury brands, it was the perfect venue for an event of this scale. The extension had been built and planned solely for Fashion Week.
The main halls displayed works from top students of the country's most prestigious art and fashion schools. Meanwhile, the brands' commercial booths buzzed with networking and deal-making.
Models, designers, brand owners, actors, singers, and celebrities flooded the pre-event. Photographers and reporters filled the space, camera flashes never stopping, each desperate for the perfect shot.
At the entrance, Hitomi met Megumi, the rookie's first major runway event. She looked stunning in a gold dress, carrying herself with confidence despite the blinding lights and chaos.
When Hitomi spotted her protégée, she approached gracefully in her crimson Vacchiano gown, the most anticipated brand of the show. Its flawless detail reflected the brand's tradition of excellence and pride.
"Smile and wave! Watch out for rookie journalists, most of them just want a sensational headline. Don't talk too much." whispered Hitomi to Megumi, smiling for the cameras.
"Thank you, Hitomi!" Megumi replied softly, mimicking her mentor's movements.
The party buzzed with life, drinks and hors d'oeuvres flowing freely. While everyone admired the famous faces, others whispered about the young model beside Hitomi.
"That's Hitomi's apprentice, right?" murmured one model.
"I think so. Don't see what's so special, though. But word is, she's walking for Vacchiano." replied another, clearly more informed.
"Vacchiano? Seriously?" said the first, half outraged.
"If she messes up, it'll be a disaster, haha…" added a third, joining in with a sly grin.
Hitomi, seasoned as she was, kept her cynical smile, perfectly aware of the venom behind the gossip. She leaned closer to Megumi and murmured:
"You're staying in the model dorms, right? My condolences. They'll want your skin."
"Huh!?" gasped Megumi, still too innocent for the industry's pettiness.
With flawless posture, Hitomi made her way toward the exit, leaving her one last piece of advice.
"Well, I'm off. See you tomorrow. Don't drink too much tonight, save it for the closing party."
"Ah… yes." Megumi muttered sheepishly, already on her third glass of champagne.
The pre-event wound down as designers met their runway models, and the dressing rooms were set for the next day's shows. The media coverage exploded online and in print by morning.
April 13th, Opening Day of Fashion Week
Backstage was chaos, designers darting around, makeup artists rushing, hairstylists adding final touches. Despite the apparent disorder, the machine worked flawlessly; the audience would never know the madness behind the curtains.
The first show, MR's swimwear line, was moments from starting. This year, the designers had chosen glitter body paint for all models, which looked stunning but caused serious delays.
Last-minute adjustments were inevitable, straps tightening, pins being found, bikinis being tied perfectly in place. Borrowed shoes were taped on the soles to avoid scuffing before being returned to stores.
Every model knew her job wasn't just to walk, it was to keep the chaos invisible. Stay poised, stay still, be perfect.
Out front, guests chatted in anticipation. Some networked, others, the celebrities, simply waited in polished silence. Photographers crouched and stretched for the best angle, fighting for visibility and the perfect cover shot.
Then, the lights dimmed. Silence.
A single spotlight lit the pianist on stage, cheerful pop melodies on piano, setting the mood of sun, sand, and sea.
Backstage, the shout went out:
"Ready! Let's do this, ladies!"
The show began.
Hitomi opened the runway, orange-toned makeup, shimmering body paint, large hoops, and a turquoise-green bikini. Her presence radiated power and poise; the look became the night's dream piece.
"CHARLEY AND MEGUMI, YOU'RE NEXT!" shouted the stage manager over the music.
Megumi stepped onto the runway in a pastel blue and pink bikini, accented with metal rings and waves in her hair. Her calm elegance complemented the playful sparkle of the theme.
After the swimwear show, the next collection, evening fashion, began. Gone were the bright tones, replaced with rich reds and browns. A renowned singer performed live, his romantic ballad filling the air. Hitomi appeared in a white corset gown and pearl necklace; Megumi followed in a strapless dress with sheer gloves.
Then came the third show, electric music, neon lights, bold cuts, zippers, crystals, and asymmetry. Hitomi and Megumi wore embroidered, jeweled outfits with yellow fishnet tights. Their neon makeup reflected the summer-night energy.
Four more shows followed, though neither of them walked again. Instead, they watched, finally able to enjoy from the audience's side.
When the last applause faded, Hitomi turned to Megumi, arms open in rare excitement.
"Congratulations on your first day!!"
"Thank you, Miss Hitomi!" Megumi replied, returning the hug.
"Stop with the 'Miss' already!" she scolded lightly.
"Sorry, sorry…" Megumi laughed awkwardly.
Everyone then moved to the cocktail party, networking was mandatory, and so was celebrating.
"Hitomi! Thank you so much for walking our opening show! It was amazing, everyone's talking about it!" said the head designer from MR.
"Wonderful! Your bikinis are divine, they'll sell like crazy!" she replied, sincerely proud.
As they chatted, Hitomi noticed Megumi surrounded by other models. She raised her hand, calling out just loudly enough to be heard:
"Megumi! Come here! I want to introduce you to someone!"
She took her apprentice by the hand and led her through the crowd. The small gesture of familiarity stirred murmurs among the guests, but Hitomi didn't care. There was someone important she needed Megumi to meet."