Fashion Week Finale Page 3

  I roll my eyes. “Oh my gosh! I told you, I’m fine. Really. Now spill.”

  “Well,” Alex says, pulling a block and causing the tower to wobble, “he likes basketball, just like me. And we’ve gone hiking a lot.”

  “Do you make him watch bad reality television with you?” I ask jokingly. I pull a block, and the tower tumbles to the table.

  “Nah, that’s our special thing,” Alex says, pointing at me. “But we do scarf Doritos and pizza together.”

  I laugh. “A match made in heaven. I’m really happy for you.”

  Alex and I wander around a bit more, even acting silly and riding the carousel. It’s mostly full of kids, but people smile at us as we park ourselves on a horse and zebra. We grin as the animals go up and down. Being chic intern Chloe has been great, but I’ve missed being goofy with Alex.

  “Two days is not enough to spend with you at all!” I say as we head back to my dorm. “I wish you could stay and help with Fashion Week.”

  Alex grins mischievously. “Well… that’s actually something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. I did some research, and I think there might be a way I can stay longer…”

  * * *

  We hurry back to the dorm to run Alex’s plan by Avery and Bailey. I’m less excited, however, to see the look on Madison’s face when I suggest Alex might stay longer.

  “Guys,” I say as we walk in, “this is my best friend, Alex.”

  “Hey!” says Avery. “It’s so nice to meet you! I love your jeans!”

  “And your shoes — super cute!” Bailey adds.

  Alex grins and blushes. “Thanks!”

  Madison just sits there quietly. I’ve told Alex all about Madison in our calls and texts, so hopefully the silence isn’t a surprise.

  Alex gives me a little nod, and I launch into her plan. “So I know Alex is only supposed to be staying two days, but we, uh, wondered if you guys would mind if she stayed a little longer.” I pause. “Like maybe until Stefan’s fashion show is done? Wednesday?”

  I expect Bailey, Avery, and Madison to at least want to discuss it, but Avery just shrugs. “Fine by me. I told you this suite is roomy compared to what I’m used to.”

  “Same here,” says Bailey. “We’re always in and out anyway. Mallory Kane’s show is tomorrow, so I won’t be here a good part of the day.”

  “And Thomas Lord is Thursday,” Avery adds, “so I’ll probably be gone helping with some sort of prep on Monday and Tuesday.”

  Madison sighs and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. But she’s going to be pretty bored while you’re at work.”

  “Well, I’ve been doing research,” says Alex, “and a lot of the Fashion Week websites I’ve looked at say designers are always looking for more volunteers. Is that true?”

  Avery claps her hands. “Totally true! What an awesome idea! Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”

  “Do you think it’ll be hard to clear with Stefan?” I ask.

  “Doubt it,” says Bailey, “but I’d ask first thing Monday morning. Don’t wait until Wednesday.”

  Alex and I hug. “This will be so cool,” I say. Then a thought comes to me. “But what about your plane ticket?”

  “My dad made it open-ended. Once this is cleared, I’ll call him, and he can confirm the departure date. Surprise!”

  “I’m so jealous,” says Avery, fake pouting. “I wish I’d thought of having a friend volunteer with me.”

  “It was all Alex’s idea,” I say with a grin. I’m so excited for her to see my designs and the world I’ve been living in for the past two months. Finally, I can share it with my best friend.

  Alex and I are up extra early Monday morning, and I’m surprised by how excited my best friend is to put together her outfit. She pulls out a patterned blouse with a V-neck and pairs it with loose black shorts. Metallic flats complete the look.

  I’m impressed. “I’m still surprised by this new Alex, but I so love it!”

  Alex twirls in front of the mirror and bows dramatically. “Why, thank you, darling!”

  I’d been thinking of wearing black shorts too, but I don’t want us looking like twins, so instead I choose a short-sleeved lace blouse and pair it with taupe silk shorts and open-toed flats.

  “I can’t wait to see where you work,” Alex says as we leave the dorm. “Let’s just hope Stefan is looking for volunteers. Maybe I should stay hidden until he says it’s okay.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say. I try to sound confident, but butterflies form in my stomach. What if he says no? We have almost an hour before the meeting starts. That will give Alex and me plenty of time to get to work and talk with Stefan, but that still doesn’t totally quiet my butterflies.

  * * *

  When we get to the office, Stefan is setting up the meeting room. Alex hides behind the door, and I walk into the conference room.

  “Early and eager,” says Stefan, smiling. “I like that in an intern.”

  “Do you need help?” I ask.

  “Why not? Please place a packet at everyone’s seat,” Stefan says, handing me a stack of papers.

  I do as he says, but the butterflies are getting worse. “Um, Mr. Meyers?” I finally manage. “I was hoping to talk with you about something.”

  Stefan stops organizing and gives me his full attention. “What is it?” His face is serious.

  “My friend Alex is visiting, and we were wondering if you could use more Fashion Week volunteers,” I say. My heart is pounding, and I wring my fingers as I wait for him to answer.

  Stefan breaks into a grin. “Is that all? I thought you were going to bail on me. We can always use more volunteers. I’m going over a lot of info at today’s meeting. Can she get here?”

  My face reddens. “Um… she’s waiting outside.”

  Stefan laughs and peers out the door. “Ah, I see her. She’s not a great hider, but at least she has style.” He waves Alex into the room and extends his hand. “Stefan Meyers.”

  “Alex,” she says. “I’m so excited to be here. Thank you for letting me help.”

  “If you’re anything like your friend Chloe,” says Stefan, “this will work out perfectly.”

  Alex and I finish passing out the packets as interns from all departments begin trickling in. When everyone is seated, Stefan begins his speech. “Tomorrow, I, along with the rest of the designers, will be busy with last-minute Fashion Week prep, so today is our last chance to talk at length before Wednesday’s show,” he says.

  I’m sitting beside Alex and nudge her with my elbow. She grins. I know we’re both jumping up and down on the inside.

  Stefan starts off with a map of Lincoln Center and focuses on where our tent will be. Then he assigns our positions before, during, and after the show. Alex and I are responsible for placing the programs and gift bags on everyone’s seats before the show begins. We’ll also be assisting backstage with the models. I try to focus on what Stefan is saying even though my brain is turning cartwheels.

  “Finally,” he says, “a reminder. Your job is to assist with the Stefan Meyers brand. This is not a networking opportunity. This is not a time to tell other designers, editors, and critics how hard you’ve been working for me and which button was your design.” He pauses and looks around the room. Is it my imagination, or do his eyes linger on Madison? “Believe me, I see your efforts. If you do what I ask of you, I’ll notice. Questions?”

  No one raises a hand.

  “Excellent,” Stefan says. “I expect to see you all at the tent by seven a.m. Wednesday. Remember to wear black, and don’t forget to read through your packets. They also have your volunteer badges.”

  There are a few quiet groans about the early morning and the black. I don’t know what the problem is. Early mornings are old news, and as for the black, it could be worse. Besides, it’s Fashion Week! If Stefan sai
d to wear a clown suit, I’d do it without complaints.

  “Where to now?” asks Alex. “Can we scope out the tent for Wednesday?”

  “Good idea,” I say. As we get closer to Lincoln Center, the crowds thicken. Alex and I look at our maps and find Stefan’s tent.

  “Michael’s description of it sounded great. I can’t wait to see it!” I say as we duck inside. It’s even better than I imagined. The white is simple yet elegant, and there’s a humongous chandelier at the end of the runway, just like we’d discussed.

  Alex whistles, impressed. “I love it. I was scared it would look crazy like some of those shows we watched online. Wasn’t there a seal in one of them?”

  I laugh. “Definitely no animals here.”

  We do a small tour of the space and check out the backstage area. “I can’t believe we’ll be a part of all this,” says Alex.

  “I know,” I say. “I feel like I should pinch myself. I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

  * * *

  That evening, Bailey tells us all about Mallory Kane’s show. “It was super hectic,” she says, “but amazing. I loved organizing all the outfits for the models and checking the guest list.”

  “I can’t wait until Thursday’s show!” Avery says.

  “The end was really cool too,” Bailey continues. “Mallory walked onstage after the last set of models, and everyone applauded. I was backstage, but all that energy was contagious. Even when I was cleaning up and packing up the clothes and extra gift bags and programs, I was so pumped. I just felt so good to be a part of the experience.”

  “That sounds amazing,” I say. I close my eyes, picturing the lights and clothes on the runway.

  “But we’re not really a part of the experience,” Madison says, cutting into my daydream.

  “What do you mean?” asks Bailey.

  Madison rolls her eyes. “I mean, we’re just interns. You should have heard Stefan’s speech this morning. He went on and on about how we need to focus on the Stefan Meyers brand. It’s not about ‘networking.’”

  Bailey sighs. Her annoyed expression tells me she’s had these conversations with Madison before. “You’re there to help, not network. All the designers feel the same way about that. If you’re being professional, you’re asked to come back. Designers introduce themselves to you. There are opportunities.”

  “What do you think, Chloe?” Madison asks.

  I glance back and forth between Bailey and Madison, not sure how to respond. I know if I agree with Madison, she might finally warm up to me. Although, the internship is almost over, so what does it matter? In a way, she has a point. I mean, who wouldn’t want to talk to a famous designer or be the Cinderella of fashion?

  But then I remember what Liesel and Laura said about things happening in their own time. I remember Gary saying there are more important things than seeing your name in lights. The truth is, regardless of how nice it would be to be the star of the show, tomorrow is about Stefan’s brand and being a team player.

  “I think our job is to just follow Stefan’s directions,” I finally say. “I wouldn’t want to miss something important and be responsible for Stefan’s show tanking.”

  Madison frowns. “Figures you wouldn’t care about being heard, Diva Girl. You already had your moment in the spotlight.”

  “Hey!” says Alex. “Chloe worked really hard to get here.”

  “Forget it,” I whisper.

  Alex sputters like she wants to say something else but settles for glaring at Madison.

  Madison gets up and heads to her room. “You guys do what you want, but I’ve worked too hard to be a wallflower. I’m not just going to sit back.” She walks to her room, then turns around one last time. “Maybe I just want this more than the rest of you.”

  As soon as my alarm buzzes at six o’clock Wednesday morning, I jump out of bed. Alex, on the other hand, pulls the covers over her head and groans. That means I get the shower first, which is fine by me.

  I quickly wash my hair and am finishing putting on my Fashion Week outfit — a black sheath dress, black tights, and black flats — when Alex starts banging on the door.

  “Chill,” I say, coming out. “I’m moving as fast as I can.”

  “Not my fault I can’t function before eight. And factor in jet lag…” Eyes still half-closed, Alex pushes past me into the bathroom.

  While she showers, I focus on doing my hair. I may not be able to spice up my wardrobe with some sparkle, but at least I can style my hair. I blow-dry it straight, then glance at the time on my phone — six-thirty. Good thing Alex’s hair is shorter than mine and will require less styling, or we’d be late for sure.

  When Alex finally emerges, she’s wearing black flats too, but she’s paired them with a black shift dress and tights with a zigzag pattern to keep us from looking identical.

  “You look great!” I say, checking the time again.

  Alex follows my gaze and pulls her hair back into a quick bun. “Not to worry,” she says. “No dryer needed.”

  I smile, relaxing, and hook my arm through hers as we head out the door.

  * * *

  We get to Lincoln Center with five minutes to spare. Stefan has even set up an area with food and coffee.

  “He’s, like, the best boss ever,” Alex chirps, helping herself to a bagel, eggs, bacon, and coffee.

  I do the same, adding some fruit to my plate as well. It’s going to be a long day, so I make sure to toss a couple protein bars and fruit in my bag for later.

  I look around the room at the sea of black. Even with everyone dressed in the same color, it’s amazing how much individuality there is. There are dresses with lace and ribbed and patterned tights. I see a few peplum dresses too, and spot one intern wearing a long black maxi, which I love. I could picture it spiced up with a statement necklace or scarf.

  Stefan raises his hand for attention. “This is it,” he says. “This is what we’ve been working toward. We’re all here for the same purpose — to make sure the show runs smoothly.”

  Alex and I glance at Madison, but she appears to be very focused on her bagel.

  “Work hard, have a good time. Any questions?” Stefan asks. The group is silent. “No? Then onward!”

  Alex and I get right to work, grabbing a cart and loading the gift bags and programs onto it. My best friend and Fashion Week — what more could a girl ask for?

  * * *

  Alex and I place a program and gift bag on each seat in the tent, then step back to admire the whole thing once more. Even though we saw the finished product yesterday, it’s more impressive today because of the energy. Volunteers are rushing from one station to another, Gary is doing sound checks, and models are being prepped.

  “Girls,” says Laura, rushing toward us. She’s out of breath, as usual. “If you’re done here, I need you backstage assisting with the models.”

  Alex and I exchange an excited look and follow Laura backstage into the chaos. Hairspray is being sprayed everywhere, shoes are being thrown from one direction to another, and stylists are doing last-minute dress adjustments.

  “Where do you need us?” I ask.

  “You’ll help dress the models and keep track of the looks,” says Laura. She hands us photos of the outfits the models will wear, along with the order they go in. “We have fifteen models and thirty looks. Each model will showcase two designs. You’ll notice the first model will wear the first and last design on the list. There will be some time to change looks, but we need you girls to make the changes go as quickly as possible. If you need anything, ask the stylists, okay?”

  We nod, and Laura runs off to assist someone else in need.

  “Ten minutes!” a familiar voice yells.

  I turn and spot Liesel off to the side. She’s busy making last-minute adjustments to the pieces she and Taylor collaborated
on. “Liesel!” I shout, running over to give her a hug.

  She pauses long enough to hug me back. “This is it, Chloe! Are you ready?” she asks.

  “Born ready,” I say, chuckling. “You remember Alex, right?”

  “Of course. Nice to see you again,” says Liesel. “Excited to be here?”

  “Totally! I can’t believe I get to do this!” says Alex.

  Liesel grins. “Me neither. It never gets old. We’ll catch up after the show, okay? Best of luck!”

  Liesel rushes toward Taylor and Stefan, who have just appeared backstage, and I help the first model into her outfit. It’s the purple cotton dress with black trim Laura designed, based on my pockets.

  “I love this one,” says Alex, helping a model with a crochet tank dress. I recognize the scalloped hem and metallic threading.

  “I helped Laura design that one,” I say.

  Alex whistles. “Mighty impressive, girl.”

  “Five minutes!” someone calls, and Alex and I stop chatting and focus on the task at hand.

  I feel my heart beating quickly as the first models line up. We add pieces of adhesive tape and pins for last-minute fixes, and then they’re ready. The music starts, and it’s go time. This is it. It’s happening.

  As the models hit the runway, Alex and I stay busy in the back, constantly checking Laura’s list and comparing it with who’s lined up to go. We have to make sure there isn’t any lag time between one model and the next. That could throw off the whole show.

  Even though I can’t see the models on the runway, there’s something amazing about seeing the designs on them backstage. The way fabric skims the hips or lays on the collarbone changes the garment, and I realize more than ever that there’s a level of precision to choosing the right model to perfectly showcase a design.

  It feels like we’ve been standing forever, and Alex and I make the mistake of sitting down just as the first models are strutting back in.

  “Ladies!” yells Taylor. “Look alive!”