When the girls step out of the residence hall, time seems to slow down.
Leila glows—not with glamor, but with grace. There's a quiet brilliance in the way her scarf flutters around her neck, her wide-leg jeans and soft blouse catching the golden dusk like painted silk. Tonight, she doesn't sparkle—she radiates. Like a moon in its own orbit.
Beside her, Sofia looks like the embodiment of spring. All rosy cheeks, glimmering heels, and carefree confidence. A vision dipped in starlight and laughter.
They're teasing each other, their voices light and flirtatious as they cross in front of the café.
"So this celestial beauty belongs to me for tonight," Sofia declares, looping her arm through Leila's.
Leila smirks, playing along. "Babe, I'm all yours. If you promise me an unforgettable night… so…"
The flirtatious jab draws giggles between them—but behind the glass of the café, two hearts stumble.
Kai chokes on his espresso. "Did she just—?"
Elias doesn't answer. He's already standing.
The two men exit in silence, trailing just far enough behind to watch Sofia flag down a cab. The girls slide in, heels and laughter tucked neatly into the backseat. The boys are in their car seconds later.
"She's not what I expected," Kai mutters as Elias takes the wheel.
Elias doesn't respond. His focus is sharp—too sharp. As if he's not chasing a girl, but trying to unravel something he's never understood before.
The venue is aglow when the girls arrive. Spotlights sweep the sky like brushstrokes. Music pulses low and stylish through the lobby as Sofia talks animatedly beside Leila, eyes gleaming.
"This is one of the best setups I've seen this season," Sofia says, ushering Leila in. "One day, I swear, I'll have my own show. With my own name stitched into the collars."
"I believe you," Leila replies, softly but surely. "You dream loud, and walk like it's already yours."
They take seats near the front, just off the aisle. The fabric of the event wraps around them—elegant and artistic.
Just a row behind, Elias and Kai find empty seats, unnoticed. Close enough to listen.
"Have you even eaten today?" Sofia scolds in a whisper, nudging Leila's arm. "You've been running on caffeine and stubbornness since sunrise."
Leila shrugs. "I had a few bites earlier…"
"Two bites of air don't count."
Elias's eyes narrow slightly. His jaw clenches.
He knew it. He'd seen it in the way she moved, the way she occasionally wavered, like someone carrying something heavier than her frame. But hearing it stirs something colder. Frustration, yes—but not just at her.
Why doesn't she take care of herself? Why does she move like the whole world comes before her?
Kai leans in, murmuring, "You okay?"
Elias doesn't look away from Leila. "No."
And he doesn't know why that answer matters so much.
The lights dim. A hush falls over the room as the music deepens—something sleek and moody, like silk sliding across marble.
Models begin to stride down the runway in elegant synchrony, the designer's collection blooming like art in motion.
Leila watches with quiet fascination, her fingers curled delicately around her lap. Sofia, meanwhile, is nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement.
"I swear," she whispers, "one day this'll be me backstage, yelling about zippers and last-minute sequins."
Leila smiles. "You'll be the most stylish tyrant fashion has ever seen."
Their laughter softens as another model floats down the catwalk—but then, unexpectedly, there's a sudden commotion near the side curtains. A woman in a headset appears in front of their row—poised but clearly in a hurry.
"You two," she says, her accent smooth but rushed, pointing at Leila and Sofia.
Both girls blink in unison.
"Yes, you. The designer's asking for you backstage. Two of her models fell ill—she's seen you from the front row and says your look fits the final two pieces of the collection."
Sofia gasps. "Wait, are you serious?"
"It's urgent. We have barely ten minutes. Will you come?"
Sofia is already halfway out of her seat, grabbing Leila's hand.
But Leila gently resists, rising slowly. "I… I don't wear revealing clothes. I'm sorry, I—"
The woman nods. "The designer anticipated that. One of the last looks is modest—full-length sleeves, high neck, floor-length. She said it reminded her of you."
Leila falters.
"It's a beautiful piece," the woman adds gently. "Elegant and strong."
Sofia turns to her, eyes sparkling. "Leila, come on. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. And she picked you. This could be a sign."
Leila glances toward the runway, then back to Sofia—whose face glows with childlike wonder—and finally lets herself nod.
"Alright," she whispers. "Just this once."
From their seats behind, Elias's hand tightens slightly around the armrest.
He'd watched Leila's hesitation. Heard the softness in her voice, the way she placed boundaries with quiet confidence. But he'd also seen the moment she agreed—and something in his chest shifted again.
Kai leans in, grinning. "Well, well. This night just got interesting."
Elias doesn't respond.
But his eyes don't leave the stage.
Backstage is chaos. Stylists move like dancers in a well-rehearsed storm. Sofia is already slipping into her outfit—an ethereal lilac gown with dramatic sleeves and a flowing cape-like back. She looks like she belongs.
Leila's piece is simpler but breathtaking: deep emerald green silk, with embroidered silver threading at the cuffs and collar. It moves like water when she walks.
Her hair is pulled back into a soft bun, her features left mostly natural—just kohl lining her almond-shaped eyes, giving her an air of mystique.
When she steps out from behind the curtain and onto the runway, the crowd murmurs softly.
And in the second row, Elias forgets to breathe.
She walks—not like a model—but like herself. Steady. Elegant. Quietly commanding.
Like someone who has never needed a stage, but finally allowed herself one.
Kai glances over. "You're in deep."
Elias doesn't deny it.