Zoe's POV
As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, a strange fullness swelled inside me—like I wasn't in my own body, like I'd stepped into someone else's skin. Someone fearless.
Ashley's creation screamed perfection. A beautiful, rebellious masterpiece—the most daring I had ever seen myself look.
She had taken the tattered purple thrift-store piece, slashed, stitched, and transformed it into something bold. Beautiful and dreamy.
One of the sleeves was sheer-puffed, adorned with tiny stars while the other shoulder was left bare, framed delicately by layers of soft tulle ruffles. A velvet corset hugged my waist just right, laced and studded with tiny pearls. The hem cascaded in uneven waves of mesh, like smoke curling in slow motion.
It wasn't just a dress—it was confidence. Wrapped in silk, stitched with passion.
Ashley appeared behind me, her reflection joining mine in the mirror. Her lips curled into a proud, satisfied grin.
"So…?" What do you think? She asked, her eyes glowing.
I couldn't speak right away. I was afraid a tear might drop.
With a shaky, almost-whispered voice, I said, "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."
She had handpicked that dress for me at the market. It was hideous at first glance—like the former owner hated it so much they buried it in the back of a dusty trunk.
But Ashley saw gold in the rubble. And now? I looked... Unbelievable.
She was brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, I thought she deserved to be the star of our class. No, scratch that—she was the coolest person I knew. And I was hanging out with her. Duh.
But as I took a second glance at myself in the mirror, my stomach knotted. Could I really pull this off?
"I don't think I can do this," I muttered, my heart hammering in my chest.
Ashley's smile dropped instantly. "Are you kidding me?" she said, clearly hurt. "You're Chloe. If anything, I should be the one worried whether my design is even worthy of you."
Her voice cracked as she continued, "Do you know how much this means to me? We haven't known each other very long, and yet you're doing this for me. If even one picture of you in this makes it online… just one…"
She swallowed hard. "Ashremode would become a real thing."
My chest tightened with guilt. She thought I was Chloe.
At that moment, a new thought sparked. Maybe I could help her. Being Chloe was not meant for selfish reasons. If I could get us into the annual fashion fest… if I could become the next star… not only could I pay off Dad's debts, win back our home, and fulfill Chloe's dream. I could also push Ashley's Brand. Her brand deserved to shine.
Then just maybe, I could finally stop pretending. Go back to my writing. And be Zoe again.
I sent up a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening.
I hadn't had the chance to tell Margaret about the party. She and Mr. Ross had already left for their trip by the time I got the invitation. But when she called the house that night before to check on us, I grabbed the opportunity.
"Elizabeth's on her way," she said warmly. "You can ask her anything. She'll take good care of you guys until I return." Now you all, be good, her voice sounded firmly on the phone.
Elizabeth?
I looked around the room. No one else seemed surprised. Not even Madison. I guess that meant Elizabeth was a familiar name.
A man's voice suddenly echoed through the speaker—Mr. Ross. The moment his voice filled the room, Brandon stood up abruptly and walked out without a word. Like he didn't care to listen. All our eyes were glued to him as he left, then back to the phone.
I hadn't even been able to talk to him about what Miss Riley and I discussed. He was always so… unapproachable. Like if I dared to speak to him, my tongue would twist itself.
Elizabeth arrived not long after the call. She was stunning—looked like she was in her late twenties. She had thick dark hair, hazel eyes, and curves that belonged on a runway. She wore a sleek black dress and rolled in a glossy suitcase like someone stepping straight off a reality show.
Now that the day had finally arrived, everything seemed to be falling into place. Except for those god-damned shoes. As I descended the staircase, I sent up another prayer. Heels were clearly invented by sadists.
I had told Ashley I had a bad knee and was still recovering.
"Oh no, what happened?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
"I twisted it… the night of the robbery," I lied. "Haven't been able to walk right in heels ever since."
Another lie added to the pile.
At least it covers for Chloe's sudden disappearance.
How I wish I could tell Ash the truth. She'd been so kind to me. But it was too great a risk.
Thankfully, she didn't push. "No pencil heels then," she said sweetly.
After several failed tries with flat heels, I finally slipped into a pair of her boots. It was better, I could walk—well, sort of. At least I didn't look like someone who has a recurring muscle pull.
Ashley spun me around and began her makeup ritual. Her hands steady on my face like it was her canvas. I fought every urge to scream from exhaustion, but when I saw the finished look, it was worth every second.
A knock came at the door.
Ashley stiffened. "Tell me it's not Seth," she muttered, blinking rapidly.
"Come in," I said. Curious as to who it was.
It was Elizabeth.
"You girls look stunning—wow," she said, walking over and inspecting our reflections in the mirror.
"Wait here."
She returned with a small cosmetic bag and reached out for Ashley's brush.
"Do you mind?"
Without waiting for much of a reply, she started adding her own final touches. Elizabeth wasn't just an assistant—Apparently she worked at H&M Cosmetics, and clearly, she knew her stuff.
We chatted as she worked. She was full of tips for "scoring your crush at a party," and proudly called herself an alpha female. "No need for slow burns," she grinned. "I see what I like, I go for it." I wished I had half the confidence she got.
By the time she was done, we looked flawless. Confident and radiant. Ready to take on the world.
But as we walked out of the room, the thought of Brandon curled up in my head and refused to leave. I caught myself scoffing at the idea of having a crush on him. I thought it was internal—until Ashley gave me a strange look.
"You okay?"
I scratched the back of my neck, embarrassed. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."
We marched down the stairs, Elizabeth leading. But as we reached the landing, my confidence wavered. The possibility of facing Brandon again made my pulse race.
Why did I care so much?
He treated me like I didn't exist—yet I still wanted to talk to him, to help him. What are these feelings?. And why does it hurt so much.
Then, as if summoned by my thoughts, there he was.
standing by the door. His gaze lifted. For a fleeting second—that felt it was on slow motion—his eyes met mine.
I blinked and looked away, heat crawling up my neck. Did I look ridiculous? Had I done too much?
But the front door clicked shut. He was gone.
That was fast.
Wasn't he going to the party? Wasn't it his friend's?
I was too embarrassed to admit how disappointed I felt.
Ashley leaned close. "Where's Seth?" she whispered.
Before I could answer, Elizabeth did—smiling knowingly. "He has an appointment with his agent."
Ashley beamed. "He's so hardworking."
She was clearly smitten
As we stepped onto the porch, a sleek car zoomed up.
Ashley and I gasped in unison. A Ferrari?
Guz stepped out behind the wheel, grinning.
"Yeah, yeah—I know," he said, clearly loving the attention. "My mom's boyfriend owns it. Guess he wanted to impress his future stepson. He let me take his baby."
Ashley and I squealed and jumped in, our faces lit with excitement.
Tonight, the stars felt just within reach.