"Okay, bye. I have to meet some people."
Annelise stood up, smoothing down her jacket. The sun had begun its slow descent behind the café windows, casting a warm golden hue on her friends' faces. Noémie, Seriana, and Lina followed suit, rising with their purses in hand.
"Okay, see you guys again. Bye," Annelise said softly, hugging each of them one by one. For a moment, it felt like the old days—uncomplicated, warm, full of little jealousies but genuine laughter.
Outside, Merci, Annelise's assistant, stood by the sleek black car, arms crossed.
"You're late, Annelise."
Annelise rolled her eyes, sliding into the back seat. "Sorry, old nostalgia. Couldn't resist."
The car rolled toward the designer's studio in Geneva. The building was minimalist from the outside but shimmered with activity within. Merci accompanied her into the brightly lit space, where mirrors, fabric swatches, and perfume lingered in the air.
They were greeted by the manager and five other stunning models...tall, poised, eyes glowing with anticipation. Each of them had been selected for tonight's highly anticipated fashion show in the heart of Switzerland's fashion district.
The concept was novel...a live audience...vote based fashion showdown. The model who received the most votes by the end of the night would win a handcrafted, 24-karat gold high-heeled shoe, created by one of Geneva's most prestigious jewelers. It wasn't just a prize; it was a symbol....of dominance, desirability, and the crown of elegance.
Behind the stage, seamstresses flitted around like moths to flame, adjusting silks, smoothing sequins, whispering final instructions. Each model was to wear a unique interpretation of the theme: "Divine Contradictions"....a clash of innocence and seduction, elegance and rebellion.
Annelise's outfit was a masterpiece. A sheer black gown with structured shoulders, asymmetrical slits running up the thigh, and a crystal corset beneath a flowing cape of tulle. Her look was both celestial and fierce—a storm in stillness.
The other models dazzled as well.....one in a blood-red latex bodysuit draped in velvet; another in silver feathers with metallic eyeshadow; a third with bare feet and thorn-wrapped ankles, evoking vulnerability and wildness.
As the show began, music thundered across the marble floors, and lights rippled like auroras. The models emerged one by one, their heels echoing like metronomes of desire. Annelise walked last. Her steps were deliberate, hips swaying like whispered seduction, eyes forward as if she owned time itself.
The crowd went wild.
And somewhere in the back row, a judge whispered, "She's going to win."
Scene Shift.....Matteo's Office
Matteo stood by the tall window of his office, arms folded. Behind him, Eliane sat, her back straight, yet fragile.
"Tell me," Matteo said finally, without turning, "What happened to you, professor? Back when you were a student."
Eliane's breath caught. Her voice was thin at first. "It started in high school. I wasn't like the others. I was quiet. Shy. When boys spoke to me, I answered politely but kept to myself. Just yes or no."
She paused, her hands curling in her lap.
"The girls began to hate me for it. Thought I was trying to act special. They... started to bully me. They poured red ink on my skirt one day and laughed. Took my notebooks. Blamed me for things I didn't do."
Matteo slowly turned.
"Why didn't you tell someone?"
"Because I had no one." Her voice cracked. "My father was already gone. My mother worked two jobs to keep food on the table. I didn't want to add more stress. So I stayed silent."
Tears welled in her eyes as she continued.
"They mocked my clothes, called me plain, made fun of my cheap shoes. I never retaliated. But one day, I couldn't take it anymore. I thought of ending it. Just..... ending the noise."
"But my mother found out. She slapped me so hard that day....not out of hate but out of desperation. Then I told her everything."
She swallowed.
"We went to school. She begged the principal to take action. But he... ....insulted her. Laughed at our clothes. Said I must be lying for attention. That I had no proof."
Eliane's next words were almost a whisper.
"A month later, my mother fell sick. The stress, the humiliation... it ate at her. She couldn't even get out of bed by the time my final exams came. I studied next to her hospital bed. "