AN: As always, if you want to see pictures of what the creations of the designers look like, I recommend reading over at Ao3. I post links there to approximations of all the designers' looks at the end of each chapter. If you don't care about the pictures, read away! :3


To say that the atmosphere at the runway meeting the next morning was icy would be a massive understatement.

Dean was pissed off at Ruby and Meg for talking shit about him in confessionals, Ruby and Meg were mad at Castiel for giving them the brush off at dinner, and some people were trying desperately to stay completely neutral and out of the conflict. Balthazar, meanwhile, didn't seem to give a shit what kind of infighting was going on; Dean almost wished he could be that laissez faire about the whole thing.

Luckily, they didn't have to sit there and stew in the awkward situation for too long before Gabriel came out onto the runway. Dean was actually looking forward to a challenge for once- not only would it be a distraction from the crap going on behind the scenes, but he planned to win this one. No ifs, ands, or buts; he was going to prove to the other designers that he'd gotten here on talent and not just for the diversity, not for the ratings grab that would result from sticking someone on here that was so un-designer like.

"Good morning designers! Sleep well?" Gabriel asked, and he got the usual muttering in reply. "Well, I'll bet you guys are dying to get your hands on some real fabric."

"Damn right," Balthazar muttered, and Dean smiled. Yeah, he could agree with that.

"Well, it just so happens that we have an event coming up, and your models need something to wear," Gabriel said with a grin. "And not just any event, but an industry garden party. Anyone who's anyone among designers and models is going to be there, and that means that your model will need to stand out in the best way possible."

An industry party- he could manage that. He knew Jessica's body type, knew what she looked best in; he was confident that he could send her off to that party knowing that she would attract some good attention. It seemed like everyone was a little more alert now, their minds already churning with ideas.

"Tim has more information for you upstairs. I will see you soon, designers. Good luck!" Gabriel said, turning and leaving the runway with a skip in his step.

He was hiding something, Dean knew it.

They didn't waste time in getting upstairs; all of them wanted to get started sketching and find out their budget. Tim stood waiting for them by the tables, and waited for them to gather around one before he started.

"So, as Gabriel said, you are making a dress for your model to attend an industry party," he said, and Dean felt a 'but' coming. "What he didn't tell you is that you will be attending this party with your model, and you will be expected to market your design. The partygoers are going to vote on their favorite look, and those votes will be part of your judging scores this week."

Oh, great.

He was going to have to try and impress people. People that were more high society than him, no less. Hell, he was lucky that Tim and the producer hadn't kicked him out the door at the auditions the second he said he distressed leather by running it over; what would he say to ruin his chances at a party?

He wasn't the only one who looked a little sick at the thought, though. That made him feel a little better. Not much.

"That said, you'll have thirty minutes to sketch, and then we're taking our first trip to Swatches to buy fabric. You'll have a$150 budget, and until midnight tonight to finish. Get started sketching!" Tim said, and Dean went back to his workstation and pulled his sketchbook close.

He wasn't used to sketching out something without a teenage girl looking over his shoulder, telling him to 'add flowers there' or 'more glitter!' It was kind of nice to be able to just draw what came to mind, even though he knew his idea would likely start changing the second he got his hands on the right fabric. So he didn't take it too seriously- he jotted down a basic design, maybe some ruching and shaping, just to get an idea of how much fabric he would need. By the time Tim told them sketching time was up, he didn't have anything completely concrete and it didn't really bother him.

Once again they were loaded into two white vans outside Brighton's, even though the store was only a few blocks away. Not that he was complaining; that meant more time for sewing. But he was confused when they pulled up outside the store, and another white van pulled up behind them- and when they got out, Zachariah and Sarah got out of the other van.

"Why are they here…?" he asked Charlie as they walked into the store, which had a 'closed sign' on the front, listing the hour they'd be closing the store for filming.

"They always take the eliminated designers on the outings and to Swatches," Charlie explained softly. "That was if anyone's on the street watching, they can't snap a picture and post it online and figure out who's out."

Well, that made sense. It also made Dean not want to be out like, ever, because he couldn't imagine having to tag along and watch the other designers keep going in the competition. A PA led Zachariah and Sarah off somewhere else in the store as soon as the doors were closed, and then Tim lined the remaining designers up and handed out the envelopes containing their cash.

"You'll have thirty minutes to shop. When that thirty minutes is up, you must have all your fabric cut and be in line at the register to check out," he explained. "Swatches employees will be posted on all three floors to help you. If you need to know where a type of fabric is, ask them. They'll also take fabric to be cut for you if you need to keep looking."

Three floors? Dean looked past Tim at the sheer amount of giant bolts of fabric just on this first floor, along with the massive shelving units full of notions and trims; beyond that he could see the stairs, and more shelves of fabric at the top of said stairs.

Three huge floors, hundreds of kinds of fabric.

No way would thirty minutes be enough.

Dean realized that he was being stared at; he looked down, and there was a tiny dog-rat thing staring up at him, a mostly hairless animal with puffs of fur on its ears and feet, and Dean shifted uncomfortably. It continued to stare, the bandana around its neck nearly sparkling in the light, obviously made of some ridiculously expensive fabric.

"Don't mind Chiffon. He's the store mascot," Tim said with a chuckle. "Are you all ready to go?"

No. Dean would never be ready. And the dog thing was still staring at him.

"Okay, your time starts…now!"

Damnit.

He didn't know where to start; the second he reached the rows upon rows of fabric, he was overwhelmed, and it didn't help that there was a camera following right behind him. He was used to tiny fabric shops, maybe a hundred kinds of fabric at most, and even in those he could spend hours. If he'd needed any special fabrics back home, he ordered them off the internet. Here, there were probably five hundred fabrics just on this floor.

For now, he needed to stick with what he was good at. He could branch out later when the judges expected to see different things, but since this was the first challenge using actual fabric, he needed to show off a little.

Satin. A whole long row of dozens of colors of satin; he was good with satin. This was doable. In the wrong hands satin could look cheap as fuck, but he'd worked with satin so much it was one of his easiest fabrics. He could throw together a basic satin dress in his sleep, which meant he would only have to worry about the extraneous things, like the ruching and embellishments.

He scanned the bolts as quickly as possible, passing over the bright red- too risky- and the pink, which was not a color that he could make look good at any kind of serious event. He stopped and knelt down when he spotted a bolt of dark blue satin, a navy color that wasn't too shiny. The price wasn't bad, either.

He pulled on the bolt, and fuck, these bolts were huge, much longer and heavier than the bolts of fabric he normally dealt with. He hefted it onto his shoulder and walked back to the aisle, where one of the employees was waiting, a girl who couldn't be over five feet tall and 90 pounds dripping wet.

"Need that cut?" she asked with a bright smile, holding out her hands, and Dean hesitated before hefting the bolt of fabric off his shoulder.

"Sure. Um, five yards, please," he said, certain that that would give him enough extra fabric in case he messed something up horribly. "Be careful, it's heavy."

The girl lifted the bolt onto her own shoulder like it was made of feathers, gave him a wink, and then was off toward the cutting tables. Okay, now he felt like a wimp, too. And kind of a jerk.

"Twenty minutes, designers!" he heard Tim yell, and he snapped out of his momentary daze and headed for the trims. Blue satin alone wouldn't cut it; it needed a kick.

There was an entire wall of different trims, all rolled onto the plastic spools and neatly tucked onto the shelves. Dean kept the shade of blue he'd picked at the front of his mind, scanning each shelf and turning down each trim one by one. It had to be perfect., and he wasn't touching most of these fringes, especially not the ones that would make it look like a flapper dress.

One caught his eye; it wasn't easy to miss. It was a long, thick trim adorned with circular metallic embellishments that caught the light, and when he picked up the spool and unwound a bit, it really moved well. This was it; a little bit of a risk, maybe, but it was exactly what it needed considering the satin was a solid color. He would just have to find a way to work it into the design without going overboard; too much of this could overwhelm the fabric.

Too much of it could overwhelm his budget, too. Ouch. He winced at the price tag, doing some mental math to figure out how much he could actually afford and still have money left for notions.

He took it back to the cutting table, where the girl was just finishing cutting his fabric, and he slid the spool over to her. "Three yards of this, please," he said, and then he jumped when a bolt of fabric thudded down on the table next to him- a bolt of hot pink silk. It was retina-searing.

"Four yards, my good man," Balthazar said, sliding it to the other employee who was standing ready to cut. Dean didn't even know what to say- he just looked at the fabric in what was probably plain horror, looked up at Balthazar, and then back at the fabric.

Balthazar just smirked. "No sense of adventure, Winchester?"

"I…don't know what I'd call that, but it sure wouldn't be 'adventure'," Dean pointed out, but Balthazar was undeterred.

Luckily, Dean got an excuse to get far, far away from that hideous fabric; the girl slid his own fabric and trim across the table to him with a smile and a 'good luck', and he thanked her and headed straight for the notions. He wasn't going to screw himself by forgetting the fucking zipper and hem tape, that was for damn sure. And a hook and eye, just to be safe.

He'd just gotten into the line when Tim called time, and he let out a sigh of relief. The first shopping trip hadn't been a disaster. And unlike a couple other people, he actually came up a little under budget, at just under 140 dollars.

It was a few minutes of waiting for everyone to get checked out, and three people had gone over budget and had to make a last minute decision. One of those was Charlie; Dean couldn't see what she had on the counter, but whatever it was, it was 17 dollars a yard. She was eight dollars over budget, and trying to decide what to put back.

"Hey, Tim…can I donate my change to another designer?" he asked, and Tim smiled.

"Absolutely. Hasn't happened often, though."

Well, it was about to happen again. Dean tugged the ten dollar bill out of his envelope and leaned by Charlie a little to slide it across the counter to the person running the cash register.

Charlie grinned and hugged him so tight he thought he felt his spine pop. "You're the greatest, Dean! I owe you. I'll sneak booze into your apartment or something," she declared, and while Dean appreciated the gesture, he was pretty sure that was something she wouldn't be able to pull off. They were monitored like convicts everywhere they went.

As soon as everyone was done buying their supplies, Tim told them to line up again with their bags.

…that damn dog thing was staring again. Dean tried to ignore it, but he could feel its gaze still on him.

"Well, designers, it wouldn't be All Star Designer without a twist," Tim said, and Dean froze, his stomach dropping. A twist? They had until midnight to finish a dress that would impress some really fucking important people, and there was a twist?

"I would like each of you to pass your Swatches bag to the person on your left," Tim continued, and Dean's dread deepened. Now they were using someone else's fabric choice?

He turned to his left and had a small measure of relief; at least he was standing next to Charlie and not Balthazar. Charlie handed over the bag with an apologetic shrug, and Dean turned and passed his own bag to the person on his other side- which turned out to be Meg.

He really hoped she hated satin.

"Alright. You can look at your new fabric when we get back to the workroom," Tim said, clapping his hands together and leading the way toward the door. The dog rat thing followed them to the door, watching them closely as they left and piled back into the vans.

"You didn't get like…neoprene, right?" Dean asked Charlie as the vans pulled away from the curb, and she laughed.

"Not neoprene. Still don't know if you'll like it, though."

"Comforting. At least I know it was expensive," he teased, sharing a look with Castiel, who was glaring at his bag like it had personally offended him. Dean couldn't blame him. "Cas, whose fabric did you get?"

"Kevin's," Castiel said, giving the younger designer a wary look, as if he imagined a bag full of crushed velvet and scorpions.

"Yeah, well, I got Ruby's. I'd like to think you prefer getting my fabric over hers," Kevin pointed out, and Castiel only hesitated a second before chuckling.

"That, you're right about."

Nobody waited long before dumping the contents of their new bags out on their workstation when they got back to the workroom. Dean felt his heart drop and he took a long, slow breath when he saw what he'd be working with- a bright red soft jersey fabric, and a lot of matching red lace.

Jesus Christ, Jessica was going to look like a lingerie model at that party.

"Charlie, what were you planning to make?" he asked, turning around and giving her a look. She laughed and shrugged.

"I like lacy things, so sue me," she said, holding up a bundle of lavender colored tulle. "And at least you didn't get ballet queen material."

"It was not going to be a tutu," Castiel muttered, his own workstation covered in black tulle, black cotton, and…was that black patent leather?

"At least you didn't get Balthazar's," Dean pointed out, looking around to try and see who did end up with that mess. Turned out, he only had to look forward- poor Benny was the one saddled with the amalgamation of hot pink materials.

"Benny, man, I'm sorry," Dean said, and he really meant it, because no one deserved that. Benny just laughed.

"I'll make do, brother. I always do."

Dean sighed again and pulled his sketchbook back to the edge of the table, studying his rough sketch- and then tearing it out and balling it up. It wouldn't work with this fabric, not in the least. He was still determined to win this one, and if he had to do it with some red lace, he would find a way.

He started sketching, stopping to unfold the material and see how much he was working with- not enough for his comfort. There wouldn't be room for error; when you had to buy expensive lace for a project, you had to cut corners on your budget. After a half hour or so he finally had an idea he thought might work- a mid-thigh sleeveless scoop neck red dress with the red lace overlaid over the top, and red lace long sleeves. Hopefully, the long sleeves would be enough to counter the tendency to look like lingerie, without tipping the scale all the way to old fashioned. At least the lace was red and not white or off-white, which would have added 'bridal' to the list of things he desperately needed to avoid.

He decided to get the jersey cloth dress done first, and get it done as quickly as he could. He rarely worked with lace, so he'd need all the time he could spare for the lace overlay; he was used to doing lace detailing, but not an overlay for an entire dress. He set to work with his pattern paper, the room mostly silent as everyone began to work.

Silent, except for the occasional muttering from Meg, who evidently thought Dean's choice in fabric had been 'shitty and cheap'. Served her right.

It didn't take long to cut the pattern, and then cut the fabric accordingly. The basic dress itself was simple, and in no time Dean was taking his work back to the sewing room, picking out one of the sewing machines and turning it on.

It was definitely a step up from the one he had back home. Okay, more like fifty steps up. He had to take a few minutes to get used to it, sewing on a scrap piece of fabric at first to see how sensitive the pedal was, and then he set to work on the dress.

It wasn't long before he decided that whether or not he won, he still wanted one of these for his house.

He was just coming back into the workroom with only hand sewn details left to finish when Charlie grabbed his arm. "Lunchtime!" she said cheerfully, and Dean was more than willing to give his mind a rest; Charlie convinced Benny, Jo, Kevin, and Castiel to join them, and they all went to the break room, where instead of sandwiches there was Chinese food waiting for them.

"I can't believe I got your girly fabric, Cas," Charlie muttered, and Dean rolled his eyes as he filled his plate.

"You had 5 yards of lace, Charlie."

"Lace can be hardcore!"

"Yeah, maybe hardcore porn."

"Children, break it up," Kevin said with a laugh. "At least they didn't give us sandwiches again."

Everyone was taking advantage; they all came back to the couches with a full plate of food, though while Castiel and Kevin opted for chopsticks, the rest of them stuck with forks. Dean couldn't afford to take a three-hour lunch break trying to use sticks to eat his food.

"Meg's not doing good," Jo pointed out with a smirk; being on the other side of the room, she had a good angle on Meg's table. "Which is hilarious, because she's mad at you for getting her stuck with satin when she just got a more expensive satin that I ended up stuck with. I think she's just mad she got your fabric at all."

"No one's allowed to complain about the fabric they got," Benny muttered, stabbing at a piece of chicken rather violently.

"Sorry you ended up with Life Size Barbie material," Charlie said, giving him a sympathetic look. "But hey, if you pull it off, they'll be that much more impressed!"

Somehow, Benny didn't seem convinced. Dean moved the topic on to teasing Castiel about ending up with enough patent leather to make an S&M harness or something, though Kevin was quick to point out that he did not pick out patent leather with porn in mind.

Unfortunately, they couldn't stay out here and just chat forever. Dean had the entire lace overlay of his dress to do, so as soon as he finished his food he went back to work, finishing the final details on the base dress before setting it aside.

He'd just started cutting the lace when Tim came by to see how they were doing, and honestly, Dean was relieved. He didn't know if he'd done enough editing of the design to save it from being plain raunchy, and a fresh set of eyes on the piece couldn't hurt.

Poor Benny got his critique first, though. The first thing Tim did was the very same thing Dean had done when he saw the fabric; he stood and stared at it, as if waiting for it to come alive and crawl off the table.

"I know, it's bad," Benny said with a chuckle, and Tim laughed.

"You're certainly starting with a handicap. What do you have done so far?"

Benny turned his dress form around, blue tape outlining where he planned to pin the neckline. "Gonna do a sweetheart neckline with a sheer overlay for the straps and back. Might use some more of the tulle over the skirt, I…I'm not sure yet. Not sure of much of anything."

Tim studied the fabric for a few more moments before speaking. "The overlay sounds like it could work. I worry, though, about doing too much with the skirt. You don't want this to end up looking like Barbie's first prom dress."

Benny nodded. "Right. Yeah, I understand. I just didn't have enough fabric to do a whole sheathe dress, and that would've been…underwhelming, anyway."

Tim clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know you can come up with something. Keep working, alright?" he said before moving on to Dean's table, where Dean had gotten the base dress fitted onto the dress form while Tim had been critiquing Benny.

"I do hope you're adding more fabric to this," Tim said with a chuckle, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah. This is just the base dress. I didn't have much of the jersey to work with, so," he started, holding out his sketchpad to Tim. "I'm going to do a lace overlay over the whole dress, and long lace sleeves. Trying to make this look…"

"Not like underwear?" Tim finished, and Dean laughed nervously.

"Yeah. Not like underwear."

Tim fell silent again; this was always the worst part, waiting as he stared at your work, waiting for the verdict that could either catapult the creative process or end in scrapping everything you've done so far.

"Well, you're straddling a line here, but I have faith in you," Tim finally said, setting the sketchpad down at the table. "You know what you're aiming for, you just need to do it."

Dean smiled with relief. "Got it. Carry on, right?"

"Carry on," Tim agreed, moving down to Castiel's workstation next.

Castiel was actually in pretty good shape; he was almost finished making a form fitting bodice out of the patent leather, and from there on it looked to be smooth sailing, because Dean knew Castiel could easily whip up an awesome skirt in the time they had left. His only disadvantage was the lack of color, but that part wasn't his fault.

The first thing Tim told Charlie was that her dress looked like a bridesmaid dress- and pretty one, but still a bridesmaid dress. Right now all she had was a draped bodice and a flowy skirt, pinned and ready to sew. She dropped her forehead on the table with a groan of frustration, but recovered long enough for Tim to tell her she had some good draping going on, and adjusting the rest of the dress to fit that style might rescue it from the dreaded 'bridesmaid' label.

None of the other critiques were anything surprising, unless you counted the fact that Tim actually loved what Balthazar had done so far; Dean had never been a fan of sack dresses, but at least Balthazar had ended up with a nice coral color to use for it instead of hot pink. Both Ruby and Kevin got scolded for their dresses being a little too short and tight; Ruby had ended up with a nude fabric with a slight shine to it, and Kevin's was nearly the same, except for the black lace overlay built into the fabric.

Jody's was straddling the line between 'statement' and 'costume'- she'd been handed a black wool with silver detailing and a white wool, and instead of doing the expected coat dress, she was doing more of a plain dress with a white collar. It was looking a little schoolgirl, in an odd way. Jo was quickly warned to stick to the shaping she'd started or hers would end up looking too prom- the 'more expensive' satin she'd gotten from Meg was a bright, vivid purple, but Jo was salvaging the intense color with decorative draping and ruching on the front.

But when Tim got to Meg, the tension in the room dialed up. She was crossing her arms and staring at her dress form, and while Dean couldn't see the front of the dress, the back looked so incredibly prom that it wasn't even funny. He'd bought the extra fabric for ruching, not to make a ball gown.

"Meg, I'll be honest…this screams Miss America to me. You're just missing the sash and crown," Tim pointed out, and Meg laughed.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you get someone else's shitty fabric."

"Everyone else is challenged by this. You're not the only one working with unfamiliar materials," Tim pointed out, looking at the dress again. "I would step back and seriously edit this. You don't want to drench your model in fabric."

Meg didn't bother answering him; she just sighed and went back to work, and Tim walked back to the middle of the room.

"Designers, your models will be here shortly after dinner for their fitting. Tomorrow morning you will only have two hours for hair and makeup, so you need to make sure that your garment is as close to finished as it can possibly be when you leave tonight," he announced. "I have faith in all of you, so keep working hard."

Dean didn't need a reminder to work hard. He went back to work cutting out the lace, taking his time with this part, because he couldn't mess up with this fabric. As it was, the stuff was difficult to work with, and he cursed at it more than once as he tried to find a way to make the stuff cooperate.

"Dean, here," Castiel said, and Dean jumped, not expecting to hear his voice from right behind him. He looked up and Castiel was holding out a can to him, and he gave it a suspicious look.

"…is that hairspray?"

Castiel chuckled, and then held out his hand toward the lace. "May I?"

If anyone else asked, Dean may have thought a few seconds longer before handing it over. As it was, he held the lace out to Castiel, and he spread the pieces out on Dean's table carefully.

"You'll want to wipe down your table after this," he said, and then he began spraying a light coating onto the pieces, working slowly and thoroughly. "This is starch spray. It'll stiffen up the lace for you, make it easier to work with."

Dean leaned forward on the table, watching him work. "You use lace a lot?"

"All the time. I think it's underrated in modern use," Castiel said with a nod, finishing up with the last piece and looking back at Dean. And yeah, they were a little close, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care- that is, not until a camera moved in close, and Castiel jerked back and shifted awkwardly.

"Well, I…you can borrow it, anytime you need it. I figured other people might not bring any, so…" he said, backing up toward his table. Dean gave him a smile.

"Thanks, Cas. I appreciate it."

Castiel just returned the smile before going back to his own work, and Charlie cleared her throat loudly- and when Dean turned to look at her, she grinned and winked. Dean grabbed his balled up sketch from earlier and lobbed it at her face, to which she just laughed and batted it away.

He wasn't going to survive this challenge, let alone the whole show. He was sure of it.

It seemed like nobody ate dinner at the same time. Each of them found ten minutes or so away from their work to shovel in the required meal before getting right back to it- Dean was still working on the main bulk of the lace dress, and hadn't even gotten to the sleeves yet. Even with Castiel's trick, the lace was finicky and difficult to work with.

But by the time Jessica showed up for a fitting, he had a decent amount to try on her- luckily the lace had at least a little give to it, so if he made it a little too tight in the sleeves, it would stretch just enough. He helped her into the jersey dress, then began pinning the lace over it and having a look at the progress.

"Think I'm actually going to leave the lace hem a few inches longer than the jersey," he said, stepping back and looking her up and down. Right now it still looked a little too Frederick's of Hollywood for his taste, but hopefully the sleeves would change that. He was beginning to wonder if he'd even be safe, let alone win the challenge, if he didn't play this right.

"I think it's going to be classy," Jessica said, and Dean laughed, carefully pinning the lace to the jersey neckline.

"Well, if you say so, then we're set," he teased, though he was a little relieved that it at least passed Jessica's inspection so far. He had the feeling if something was bad, she would tell him. Loudly.

"Alright, you can shimmy out of that now. Don't stab yourself with the pins," he said. The chatter of the models was filling the room- normally they weren't this talkative with each other during fittings, but they were all excited about the party. It was just as big a deal for them as it was for the designers.

It was yet another reason to feel bad for Benny and his model. Dean wished he had time to lend the guy a hand, to try and salvage it somehow, but he was down to the wire on his own work. As it was, Benny's dress looked like an unfortunate pink explosion on his slender model; Dean would have definitely stuck with a plain fitted skirt, even if it was a little boring. He only got a glimpse of Meg's, but there was still way too much fabric involved- he could tell that from across the room.

"Alright, don't set it on fire before tomorrow or anything," Jessica said sternly as she handed the dress back to him and pulled her jeans and t-shirt back on. "The guy who runs Paragon Model Management is going to be there, and I am going to get his attention, one way or another."

"Don't worry. I'll make you look good," Dean said with a smile, giving her a half hug before she and the other models had to leave.

Back to the grindstone, with only a few hours left to go.

He wasn't in as bad of shape as some of the others when the clock hit midnight. He had both sleeves finished and one attached; he would just have to attach the other sleeve and make the final adjustments in the scant time he would have while Jessica was in hair and makeup. It seemed like every challenge was going to end up that way, with him throwing frantic directions at a poor stylist before running back to finish a hem or a sleeve.

There was almost no chatter on the way back to the Saturn apartments; Dean walked a little behind the group, falling into step beside Castiel.

"You doing okay on time?" Dean asked him, and Castiel shrugged.

"Won't have all the time that I'd like, but…it'll get done."

"Same here. If there's a disaster in the morning, my model is going to be trying to bring back the one sleeve fashion statement."

That at least earned a smile from Castiel, but both of them were too exhausted to make any more small talk. Dean barely convinced himself to take the time to change into pajamas before collapsing into bed, dreading the 8am wakeup call.


The lack of sleep was catching up with all of them; Jo knocked over her dress form twice and Dean stabbed himself with a needle hard enough to bleed before the models even got there the next morning. And it was only took the models ten minutes to get there.

The moment Jessica walked in, Dean was turning her around and grabbing her by the hand to lead her up to the salon. He didn't want anything too sexy that would accentuate the tendency toward overly sexy in the outfit, so her told the guy to do a messy, curly updo, something simple and effortless. That done, he returned to the workroom and went back to attaching the remaining sleeve, this time forcing himself to work a little slower so he didn't risk bleeding all over the garment.

He could see it now; talking with a top designer and explaining how the blood stains are totally there on purpose because they give the piece character. Who knows, that kind of thing might actually go over well in these social circles; they seemed to go through those phases when they wanted everything to be 'gritty' and 'edgy'.

It seemed like five minutes later that Jessica returned, when it had actually been a little over an hour, and he stepped away long enough to instruct the makeup artists on what he wanted- mascara, subtle eyeliner, nothing crazy. It was a lunch party, after all, not a nightclub; a smoky eye would look a little too sexy, between the dress and the event.

He'd just finished attaching the sleeve and adjusting the hems at the wrists when Jessica came back, with five minutes to spare before Tim came to get them. Dean got her into the dress and set to work clipping threads and checking seams, which he was still doing when Tim announced that it was time to go.

He stood up and gave the dress one more long look; he'd done the best he could, really, and he was damn proud. If the judges didn't like it, well, he couldn't win their admiration every time.

"It's great, Dean. They'll love it," Jessica insisted, looping her arm through his and practically dragging him toward the door. "No more fixing. Let's do this. We'll knock their socks off."

She had more confidence than he did, that was for sure.

Their transportation for this trip was a step up from the usual; they piled into two stretch limos, with Dean, Kevin, Ruby, Castiel, Jo, and Benny in the front limo, and the other designers plus Sarah and Zachariah into the other. Dean wished that he had more time to enjoy the amenities; there was a TV in this thing, along with a tiny refrigerator that he was sure had some kind of alcohol in it.

"This is too short. And the hem is scratchy," Elizabeth, Kevin's model, complained as the limos pulled away from Brighton's, squirming in her seat like a five year old who didn't get to wear the dress she wanted. "Couldn't you have done something about this hem?"

"Oh my god, shut the hell up," Benny's model snapped, and what ensued was one of the most intense staring contests Dean had ever been witness to; eventually, though, Elizabeth turned away and scoffed, still tugging at the hem of the dress. Kevin didn't even try to bother reasoning with her; Dean had only seen her antics a few times, but even he knew she was one of those people who just didn't deal in reason.

It wasn't far to the party location. Turns out when someone in New York City says 'garden party', it's more likely to mean 'pretty plants and grass rolled out on the roof of a really tall building' than being in an actual garden. Tim led them into the lobby of the building, and Sarah and Zachariah were whisked away to wherever they kept the eliminated contestants on ice.

"Alright, remember designers, your work itself is only part of your score here. In order to earn votes, you will have to sell yourself and your dress. Personality is often the deciding factor, and could be the tipping point, even if a garment is flawed," Tim explained, checking his watch. "You'll have one hour to mingle, and then we'll meet back here to go back to Brighton's, where we'll have the runway show as soon as we return."

Well, this would be a fun day; first he would have to impress some really important industry people, then go straight to the weekly judging with little break. The stress was going to give him an early heart attack.

The party itself was lavish; Dean had worn his 'nice' jeans and a t-shirt, and he definitely wasn't the norm here. The women were showing off their designer clothing and jewelry that was probably worth more than his yearly rent, and most of the men were in well fitting tuxes and suits. Hell, at least he knew he'd grab attention with his casual look.

"Shall we?" he said, offering his arm to Jessica and taking a deep breath before they waded into the thick of it. Within minutes there was a champagne glass shoved in his hand, and he was explaining to two models how he'd ended up with the materials he used for the outfit. Luckily they seemed to like it, and minutes later one of them showed up again with an older man in tow.

"Dean, this is Ted McCullough. He runs Paragon Model Management, my agency," the model said, and Dean straightened up and shook Ted's hand with a smile that he hoped didn't look too nervous.

"And who's the lovely lady?" Ted asked as he held out his hand to Jessica- and when she offered her hand, he kissed the back of it.

Show off.

"Jessica Moore," Jessica said, obviously keeping all her excitement on a tight chain as he looked her over.

"It's very well made, and you display it well," he said, wrapping an arm back around the other model's waist. "I'll be keeping an eye on you two," he added, and that quick he was gone, and Dean let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Hey, he liked you!" he said, and he gave Jessica a playful nudge. She smiled brightly, and probably would have jumped with joy if she weren't in heels.

"Told you they'd like it."

And the people here did seem to like the dress. Dean was constantly talking to someone, being introduced to other people, big name designers that sold things he couldn't even afford to buy. It was surreal, and it was nonstop to the point where he only caught glimpses of the other designers and models lingering and chatting with people. He didn't have any chances to eavesdrop or try to see how the other designers were doing in comparison.

A PA slipped through the crowd to him and told him the hour was up, and Dean gratefully headed back toward the elevators, ready for a break from talking about himself and his work. He'd never had to try and sell himself as far as his designing went; people saw his work on other people, and if they liked it, they found him. Here he was expected to straddle the fine line between highlighting his talents and bragging shamelessly. It was mentally exhausting.

They piled back into the limos, and no one talked on the way back to Brighton's; they'd all been talking for an hour straight, and listening to other people talk. Dean was just over it right now. Happy, but ready for a break.

They didn't get a long break. They got to sit in the designers' chairs by the runway and wait for the lighting to be moved into position, the models waiting backstage as the judges finally filed in. Crowley and Naomi were there as usual, and the guest judge Dean immediately recognized as one of the designers from the party. Hell if he could remember the guy's name; he'd had at least a hundred names thrown at him over the course of an hour.

Gabriel stepped onto the runway and gave the designers a curious look. "So, how drunk did you guys get at that shindig?"

"Not as drunk as I'd like to be," Ruby pointed out. Obviously her time at the party didn't go as well as some others, if the look on her face was anything to go by.

"Well, let's hope you're sober enough to defend your work," Gabriel said with a smile, stepping back to gesture at the judges. "For our judging panel today, first we have Fergus Crowley, world renowned designer and CEO of Top Designer Management Agency. Next, we have Naomi Prevot, editor in chief of Eve Magazine. And our guest judge for this week is none other than Michael Astor, a designer whose work has been featured in dozens of top magazines, and a headliner for Paris Fashion Week."

Oh, yeah. That guy. Dean had heard of him, but the Astor label was far and beyond anything he'd had to concern himself with before. Michael smiled at them, but it was an almost predatory smile, more creepy than sincere.

"And of course, I'll be judging your looks as well. Meg, since you won the challenge last week, you are immune and cannot be eliminated today," Gabriel continued, and Meg managed a half smile at that. "That said, let's get on with the show!"

Gabriel headed back to his seat, the lights brightened on the runway and dimmed on the seats, and the quiet music started up- it would no doubt be full volume when it aired, so this was just a placeholder.

The first dress to come around the screen was Balthazar's; and really, Dean didn't hate it. For him, that was high praise for a sack style dress. It hit her at mid-thigh, a silky coral fabric underneath with a sheer layer over the top, the kind of dress that only a nearly six foot tall model would be able to pull off. You really had to be a certain shape and look to be able to wear that without it looking unflattering.

Maybe they should have someone else pick Balthazar's fabric for him for every challenge.

The next dress was Meg's, and Dean had to remind himself not to wince. It looked very, very prom; a floor length navy satin gown, with a slit so high up the front that if she moved wrong the rating of the show would go up. The trim had been used sparingly, more as accent than anything else, and Dean kind of wanted to cry over the waste of expensive materials.

Oh well. Not his problem now.

Kevin's was next, and for all her faults backstage, his model was fierce and flawless on the runway. The nude dress with a black overlay crossed over one of her shoulders, and maybe it was a smidge too short, but she worked it like it was her favorite dress in the world. So much talent, and yet Dean still couldn't stand her. It was a mixed blessing for Kevin, having a great model, but having to put up with her constant attitude, too.

Ruby's dress came next, and it was the example of what Kevin's could have turned out like if he hadn't been careful with the fit. The shiny nude dress pretty much looked like huge Ace bandages wrapped around her, too tight and too short. Jo's model right after that was a breath of fresh air, comparatively. It was still a little prom-looking, but the amazing ruching and shaping on the front of the strapless dress more than made up for it, and Dean had to admit that it was definitely an eye catching color.

Benny's was next, and Dean actually saw Naomi flinch like the thing had slapped her. That was never a good sign. Granted, it was definitely a mess; he'd tried to avoid being too simple and relying on the color for the wow factor, but he'd cranked the dial too far the other way instead; there was just too much, and it was all just too bright, between the silk and lace strapless bodice, the sheer fabric making up the shoulders and back of the dress, and the lace accentuated skirt that had a little too much volume to it. Benny was in trouble.

Charlie's dress was subdued, the fabric showing the faintest hints of lavender to keep it from being straight white. The draping on the top was done perfectly, though it seemed she'd kept a more restrained version of the flowy skirt in place. It was everything Jody's dress wasn't; Jody hadn't managed to pull the dress out of the 'costume' category, between the wool dress that wasn't fitted to the model's shape, the white collar, the white cuffs, and the white strips of fabric along the top of each pocket. It was well made, but it was still a little painful to look at.

And if Jody's could be considered 'well made', then Castiel's could be described as 'tailored to perfection', because the guy seemed to be a master at finishing his garments well. The seams were perfect, the length perfect, everything perfect. The dress itself was a little on the boring side; the patent leather bodice was the best part, and the fact that he'd formed each ruffle in the skirt and one shoulder strap to hold its oversized shape was clever, but all in all it was still a little black dress.

Dean's came last, and he couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing. Jessica worked it like she always did, with a little bit of sassy, confident attitude; sure, she wasn't the tallest model or the skinniest here, but he wouldn't trade her for any of the others.

With the runway show over, more waiting began. The judges huddled together, writing on their scorecards, murmuring to each other and pointing to things they'd written; it took the longest of any of the preliminary deliberations yet. Dean was pretty sure the judges just wanted to watch them squirm.

But then they were finally called up onto the runway, and Gabriel gathered his cards together before looking up at the line of designers.

"If I call your name, please step forward," he said, glancing back down at his card before continuing. "Castiel, Ruby, Kevin, and Charlie, please step forward."

Four of them. Six left. Dean knew before Gabriel even said it that those four were safe, and as they returned to their seats, he tried to keep himself convinced that he wouldn't be among the bottom three.

Unless he hadn't managed to yank the dress over the line from 'Victoria's Secret' runway to 'fancy party' runway.

"Our top three this week are Balthazar, Jo, and Dean," Gabriel said, and Dean felt his shoulders sag with relief. "That means that our bottom three are Benny, Jody, and Meg."

He could practically feel the anger radiating from Meg; luckily, Balthazar was standing between the two of them. He was very appreciative of the buffer right now, as the models came out and stood beside their designers. Jessica was ecstatic like always, the serious model look wiped away in favor of her usual smile.

"Let's talk to our top three first. Jo, tell us about your dress," Gabriel said, and Jo took a deep breath and turned toward her model.

"Well, I'm not particularly fond of satin, but I still wanted to try the more sculptural look on the front of the dress," she said, having the model turn a little to the side so they got to see all the angles. "It ended up a little shorter than I wanted, but overall I think it turned out pretty good."

"It did indeed," Crowley said, tapping his pen on the arm of his chair. "The construction is superb, really. There are a lot of details on the front that I missed on the runway."

"I still think it's a little too…prom, for my taste. It reads younger than your model actually is," Naomi pointed out. "But Crowley is right, that the construction is spot on."

"Love the bold color," Gabriel pointed out, and Dean imagined the air getting heavier with Meg's anger at that.

"The color is very good. It was the right fit and styling for the fabric," Michael said. "Especially for only having one day, you did a good job. You did well at the party, too."

"Thank you," Jo said, the relief plain on her face as they moved their attention to Balthazar.

"This is certainly a departure from your previous works," Naomi said, and she looked rather pleased about it, too. "I knew there was a designer in there somewhere. This is a beautiful dress."

"Thank you. I'm rather happy with it myself," Balthazar said, as if that would be a surprise to anyone. Balthazar seemed happy with everything he did, no matter what anyone else might think of it.

"I'm not quite convinced," Crowley said, leaning back in his chair. "You're going to have to prove that this wasn't a fluke. I find it suspicious that the first challenge when you don't choose your own material, you come up with something…classy."

"I think my skills will speak for themselves in the next few challenges," Balthazar insisted with an arrogant smirk.

"Well, not knowing your history here in the competition, I have to say this was one of my favorite dresses today, and you sold it well. So, good job," Michael said, and now Dean was up. He swallowed hard and tried to stay calm, cool, and collected, which was easier said than done with the judges' stares and the hot runway lights bearing down on you.

"Dean, this could have been really, really bad," Gabriel said, shaking his head. "And I don't know how you managed it, but you somehow managed to make red lace high fashion outside of a lingerie show."

Dean chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I was kind of fighting that the whole time. Did my best, though."

"Well, your best had the most votes at the party today, so congratulations on that," Michael pointed out, and Dean did a mental double take. He had the most votes? Out of everyone?

"Wow, thanks," he managed, taken aback by the news, but definitely in a good way.

"You really took her shape into consideration. The length hits her at just the right place, not short enough to look like a lace nightshirt," Crowley pointed out. "Love the lace being longer than the hem. It was a nice touch to give the illusion of more length."

"The sleeves saved you," Naomi said, but she was smiling as she said it. "As Gabriel said, this could have turned out downright trashy given the materials, but this is a beautiful, well fitting, classy dress."

Dean thanked them, his heart hammering against his ribcage as Jessica gave him a half hug in congratulations. He felt vindicated; he felt like he'd proven that he was here because of what he could do, not for the comic relief of pointing and laughing at the mechanic who wants to design high fashion.

"Benny, this is…it's frankly a travesty," Naomi said to Benny, and he looked down and nodded, not about to disagree with her.

"It's definitely not representative of what I can do," he said, and Crowley snorted.

"Well I would hope not. The bodice is terrible, makes her look even more flat chested than she already is, and the baby doll dress went out of style for a reason."

"There are so many issues with this dress," Michael said with a sigh, looking it over again. "It seems like you just started off on the wrong foot and never got your balance."

"Sounds about right," Benny said with a chuckle. "I can do better than this, I promise you that."

It didn't look like all the judges believed him, and Dean felt his fear for Benny get a little bit worse; surely they would send Jody home instead, right? She'd been in the bottom once and, to be honest, Dean didn't see the same potential in her work that he did in Benny's. But, opinions being subjective, that meant little to nothing in the judging. After all, they didn't like a single thing about Benny's dress. Dean suddenly wasn't so sure it was a clear-cut answer, despite his own opinion.

"Jody, what were you going for with this look?" Gabriel asked Jody, squinting at the dress.

"I wanted to take inspiration from the wool coat, and kind of make it my own, into a dress," Jody said, and Naomi chuckled.

"Well, it's almost…costume. It's reminiscent of those awful wool uniforms that some schools used to have. It's…not really flattering," she pointed out.

"It is well made, I'll give you that. You tailored it well. But that doesn't make up for the fact that this was a big miss for you," Crowley said, and then he gestured at his own collar. "The lace on the collar just puts it over the top."

"They've said it all. While I do see quality workmanship in this, it's just not a good look. It's too dowdy, too old fashioned," Michael said, and Jody bit her lip and nodded as they moved their attention on to Meg.

"Meg, from the top right down to the bottom of the barrel," Crowley said with a smirk, as if taking pleasure in her pain. And okay, yeah, Dean wasn't drumming up any sympathy for her, either.

"It's really pageant, you have to know that," Gabriel said, and Meg rolled her eyes.

"Maybe if my competitor didn't pick out five yards of crappy satin, I could have done more with it," she muttered, and Michael frowned at her, the mock pleasant expression he'd been keeping in place slipping away.

"One of the things I don't tolerate from the designers that work for me are excuses. Sometimes you have to create a garment that's going to hit the sales floor at fifty dollars, and if you have to use four dollars a yard fabric, I damn well expect it to look expensive when you're done," he said, and Dean had to fight to keep from smiling, because damn. She just got owned.

"He's right. Some of your competitors ended up with much more challenging fabrics to work with, things that were likely unfamiliar, and they managed to make it work," Naomi pointed out, and Crowley laughed.

"If you honestly have a problem with working with cheap materials, then you would have had a lot more trouble working with the teabags you used in the convenience store challenge," he said, and Meg lifted her chin.

"That's entirely different," she said, her voice still firm. "Okay, I screwed this up. But I am a damn good designer. Better than most of the people you dragged in here."

"We'll see if that confidence floats you or sinks you," Gabriel said, organizing his cards back into a neat stack. "Alright, we have a lot of deliberating to do. We'll call you back out when we're ready."

The designers filed off the runway and back toward the waiting room, and the PAs there greeted them with sympathetic smiles, veggie platters, and trays of sandwiches. Dean figured they all must look pretty beat to hell, if the crew was already feeling sorry for them. Didn't mean he was going to skip the meal, though.

Half the designers, including Dean, Charlie, Castiel, and Benny, sat at the large table in the half-kitchen side of the room, while everyone else sprawled out on the chairs and couches. Meg was ignoring everyone else, preferring to lie across the back of the couch and stare at the ceiling tiles. Kevin and Jo were hanging out and talking, and Ruby and Balthazar were sitting around with Jody, for some odd reason. Then again, Jody had pretty much gotten along with everyone from the first day; he didn't think even Meg had anything against Jody. Yet.

"Don't worry, Benny," Dean said with a hopeful smile. "I honestly don't think it'll be you going home. Really."

Benny smiled, picking at his food, but not eating anything yet. "Thank you for the vote of confidence. And I think you've got this win in the bag. They really liked your dress," he said, and Castiel nodded in agreement.

"Plus the most votes at the party. How did you manage that, anyway?" Castiel teased, and Dean laughed.

"It was all Jessica, let me tell you."

It was the longest deliberation yet. Every time Dean looked at the clock it seemed like only a minute had passed, a minute that felt like hours. The less stressed designers- the safe ones- actually managed to catch a nap while they waited, though Castiel didn't indulge. Dean asked him if he was going to take a nap, and Castiel looked horrified, like the thought of sleeping around the other designers out in the open was the most terrifying thing ever.

So someone had to shake Kevin and Charlie awake when word came that the judges were ready for them. Once everyone was at least somewhat awake and alert, they walked back to the runway, the safe designers dropping into their chairs and the top and bottom three back on the runway under the spotlights.

"We were generally impressed this week. Given the circumstances, most of you surprised us," Gabriel said. "But there has to be a loser. And today, you came as ten and you'll leave as nine."

Dean wanted to tell him to get on with it, that they didn't need the extra suspense, but he knew it was all for TV; these chats would be hacked up and re-edited together, put through a grinder, and taken out of context. Gabriel had to milk the suspense for all it was worth.

"Jo…you're safe. Good job," Gabriel said, and Jo smiled, not without a hint of disappointment that she didn't win. Gabriel turned and looked at Dean with a smirk.

"Dean…you're the winner of this challenge! This means you will have immunity for next week's challenge," he said, and Dean almost laughed with relief, his stomach still trying to tie itself up in knots.

"Thank you," he said, and Michael smiled back at him.

"If you're ever in need of design work after you leave here, feel free to give me a call," he said, and fuck, did Dean just get a job offer from Michael fucking Astor? Really? Was this even real life?

"Balthazar, you are also safe. Very nice job this week, so keep that up, alright?" Gabriel said, and Balthazar just winked at him.

Great. Now they were going to have condom dress 2.0 or something.

"Meg…you should be glad you had immunity this week. But for now, you are safe."

The tension seemed to drain from Meg's shoulders as she nodded, though she still looked angry- or maybe that was her default expression. Dean had known she would be safe, though, and was already worrying about Benny as Gabriel turned his eyes on the bottom two.

"Benny…your dress this week was an all around failure. The fabric may have been an excuse for the questionable style to some degree, but there was no excuse for the mistakes made in your garment," he said before moving on to Jody. "Jody, we have been unimpressed with your work. You have unmistakable skill in tailoring a garment, but we're beginning to wonder if you're a designer, or just a seamstress."

Jody winced, and ouch, Dean couldn't blame her- that one had to hurt. No designer wanted to be called a seamstress; nothing wrong with being a seamstress, of course, but it was a far cry from being a designer.

"Benny," Gabriel said, and he let the name hang in the air for far too long, letting the cameras get the shots of the anxious designers before he spoke again. "I'm sorry, but you're out."

Dean blinked in surprise. Sure, it had been a fifty-fifty chance, but he'd really expected Benny to be the one going back to the apartments with them. To his credit, Benny handled it incredibly well, shaking hands with the judges and holding his head high as they all made their way back to the waiting room.

Tim immediately pulled Benny into a hug when he walked in the room. "Benny, I'm sorry. This just wasn't your challenge," he said, and Benny gave him a smile.

"Don't you worry none. I've got a girl back home waitin' on me," he said, pulling Dean into a tight bear hug, and then Castiel too.

"You two gotta kick ass in this, okay? I wanna see both of you in the finale, and Charlie, too," he said softly before saying his goodbyes to everyone else. Once all the goodbyes had been said, Tim sent Benny upstairs to start cleaning his space, and Tim gave Dean a bright smile.

"I knew you would do well in this challenge," he said. "You keep that drive from here on out, understand?"

Dean nodded and managed a smile, though it felt disingenuous after watching Benny leave. Up until now, he'd been kind of neutral as to the eliminations, but with every person that left, it meant a person with more talent would be going home the next week. Dean didn't want to see any of his friends walk out that door to gather their things. At the same time, if he managed to actually do what Benny told him to do, he'd have to watch most of them leave.

Confessionals took even longer today, though Dean had the feeling they'd get even longer as the competition went on. He was right in the middle, so he had to wait on ice while Meg, Castiel, Kevin, and Jody all cycled through before the producer called him back. It started out as normal, them having him do a present tense recollection of moments in the challenge, from Castiel helping him, to Chiffon the dog rat thing, to the party.

"So, do you think the right choice was made tonight?" the producer asked, and Dean hesitated and sighed.

"We're all great designers here, there's no question. Otherwise we wouldn't be here. But…I can't help but think that the wrong person went home tonight. Benny had so much talent and he didn't get much of a chance to show it. But who knows, maybe Jody will get back on track and kick all our asses."

"I'll bet it felt good to win, though."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, it…it felt good. Especially after hearing about the doubts people had about me, I feel like I've proven that I belong here."

"In your opinion, who are the top competitors here?"

"Well, there's no question that Castiel and Meg are both amazing designers. Charlie and Jo have great points of view in their work, and I always look forward to seeing what they make. And Kevin is some kind of prodigy, I don't even know," Dean said, biting his lip and thinking. "But yeah, I feel like it's still anyone's ball game. Ask me again after a few more challenges."

"You've still been awfully close with Castiel," the producer pointed out with a grin, and Dean shook his head.

"You're gonna throw that at me every time I'm in here, aren't you?" he asked, but the producer just waited, obviously trying to get something juicy out of him; gossip to spread among the other contestants, drama to stir up. "He's one of my best friends here, and we've both helped each other out in tight spots. Of course I hang out with him."

It wasn't the answer the producer wanted, but it was all he was going to get. Sure, Dean was beginning to wonder if he didn't have a bit of a crush on Castiel, but he wasn't about to gush to a camera about it; the producers would tell Castiel about it to try and force things along, then things would be awkward, and...ugh. He was relieved when the producer finally sent him back to the waiting room and called in the next person.

It was dark outside by the time they headed back to the apartments. They were all a little too hyped up from the elimination to sleep just yet, so Dean made everyone hot chocolate (turns out his mother's recipe was incredibly popular with his roommates), and they started to just relax and chat- until there was a knock on the door.

Kevin set his drink down and went to open the door, and outside stood…Balthazar. With two suitcases.

"Lost both my roommates. They're insisting I move in with you three so they don't have to keep paying on the other apartment," he said, rolling his eyes as he pulled his luggage inside. "What say we knock a few of the girls out of the competition so they have to suffer the close quarters too?"

"I'll drink to that," Kevin said, grabbing his hot chocolate again. Castiel was sipping at his, oddly quiet- but then again, Dean wouldn't be too happy either, if he found out he'd be rooming with Balthazar.

Maybe Dean should have roomed with Castiel from the start after all.