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I walked into the changing room and put on the same black gown.
16:25 Wed, 9 Jul
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The me in the mirror was beautiful too.
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But the cut of this dress was clearly not suited to my figure. The waistline was too low, and the chest area was loose and baggy.
When I walked out, Lucas and Giselle were standing side by side.
Lucas looked me up and down, shook his head, and turned to Giselle:
“Ah, it’s still you after all.”
“Aria is too thin. Her figure isn’t as curvy as yours. She can’t bring out the soul of this
dress.”
Giselle let out a smug chuckle, her eyes full of challenge as she looked at me.
I said nothing and returned to the changing room to change back.
From that day on, the ambiguity between Lucas and Giselle grew increasingly obvious.
Lucas would use adjusting clothes as an excuse to keep his hands on Giselle’s waist for
far too long.
Giselle would wear revealing outfits and deliberately bend over in front of Lucas, showing
off her proud curves.
And I, always wearing a proper smile, would serve them tea and water, even thoughtfully offering band-aids when Giselle complained about her high heels hurting her feet.
My compliance and magnanimity made Lucas increasingly brazen.
He would praise Giselle right in front of me, without any restraint.
“Giselle, you have a natural camera presence. You’ve brought this dress to life.”
“Your skin tone paired with this bright yellow is simply perfect, like the sun on the African savannah.”
16:25 Wed, 9 Jul
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While to me, he grew increasingly impatient.
“Aria, don’t always hang around the studio. You don’t understand anything, you’ll affect
my creativity.”
“How many times have I told you, coffee without sugar? Why can’t you ever remember?”
Giselle’s provocations towards me also became more direct.
One day, I went to the studio as usual to deliver afternoon tea. When I pushed open the door, I found it empty.
I was puzzled until I heard muffled, ambiguous gasps coming from the direction of the
changing room.
I silently walked to the changing room door.
It was slightly ajar. Through the crack, I saw Lucas pressing Giselle against the mirror.
They were entangled together, clothes disheveled, their faces reflected in the mirror showing ecstasy and frenzy.
Giselle, while responding to Lucas’s movements, caught sight of me outside the door in
the mirror.
Far from panicking, she flashed a provocative smile and deliberately increased her
volume.
Lucas, stimulated by her, became even more frenzied, completely unaware of my
presence.
I turned away expressionlessly, preparing to leave this filthy place.
Just as I reached the door, Giselle chased after me.
She had already tidied her clothes, her face still flushed, her eyes full of mockery.
“Miss Snow, saw everything, did you?”
16:25 Wed, 9 Jul 20
<
I looked at her without a word.
“It’s good that you did.”
“Some things aren’t yours, so don’t try to grab them. Men are like clothes, they prefer
curves.”
She chuckled and leaned in close to my ear, speaking in a voice only we could hear:
“You’re just a vase with no appeal. What do you have besides your family background?”
“Lucas said being with you is like hugging a wooden board, no fun at all.”
I listened quietly, looking at her smug face, and slowly spoke.
“Are you
done?”
My calmness took her aback.
“If you’re done, move aside. You’re in my way!”
I walked around her, heading straight for the fabric area to find the silk I needed.
I didn’t look at her again, nor at Lucas as he emerged from the changing room.
I completely treated Lucas and Giselle as if they were air.
I stopped asking about any of their fashion week affairs and stopped footing their bills.
Lucas hinted several times that the budget was tight, but I brushed him off, saying, “Father’s been auditing the accounts lately, he’s keeping a tight rein on things.”
Without the Snow family’s financial support, Lucas’s face grew darker by the day.
But he still put on a brave face, relying on his previously accumulated fame and loans to maintain the Paris show’s grandeur. I didn’t interfere and continued doing my own thing.
While tidying up the office, I stumbled upon a fashion magazine from twenty years ago.
It featured Quincy Yan’s gold award-winning work from the “Rising Star” competition back then. The stunning design and unique style left me momentarily stunned.
I immediately rushed back to my own studio and pulled out all of Lucas’s designs from
over the years.
As I compared them one by one, my hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
They were exact replicas, blatant plagiarism!
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