Marinette was hiding. Which was hard to do at an event only being attended by fifty people, but she was trying her darndest to disappear into the shadowed folds of the stage curtains.
The five other designers' models had already walked. Her name and collection were being announced over the speaker system at that very moment. And she was cowering in the velvet curtains having finished any last-minute touch ups she could squeeze in before her own models had lined up.
I will not look. I CANNOT look.
A hand grabbed her shoulder lightly and she startled, her anxiety ridden face swiveling to meet the eyes of Simon. "Hey, you doing okay?" She swallowed convulsively. He pulled her in to a side hug and whispered "Your stuff looked amazing! Don't sweat it. It's almost over." If only I just had my designs to worry about. She reached her hand up to his on her shoulder and squeezed it in thanks for his literal support. A few more minutes on her own and she may have been in the fetal position on the floor.
The third model started down the run way. Shoot, I missed my opening two pieces leaving. She squeezed Simon's hand again and then extricated herself from his arm to track down the Gardenia and Belladonna models who she could see moving between the makeup mirrors and clothing racks.
I will not look, I cannot look.
She was lucky they had found a blond-haired model for the Gardenia piece. Stylists could always make requests, but whoever showed up that day was what you had to work with. "Any issues?" she inquired as she helped him back into his suit jacket—he had taken it off as instructed at the top of the runway so as to show off the lining and the waistcoat.
"The mask started feeling really weird halfway through. Can you tell if it's stuck on right?"
"Yeah, of course." She reached up and messed with the mask, seeing that the two-sided tape meant to keep it on without string was in fact less tacky than it had been when first applied. "Hmm, I guess I'll need the make up artist to look into another type of adhesive if I use these masks for the real show. Good to know. Anything else? You too" Marinette said to the woman in Belladonna.
"One of these seams at my waist is really itchy. It feels like something is just sitting wrong."
"Step out?" Marinette gestured to the woman and helped her to take the piece off. "Which area?"
"Hmm…right here" she pointed to the offending stitch line, then pointed at her skin just underneath her ribcage where a red contact rash was blooming. "Something there was really irritating my skin."
"Okay you go grab a robe so you don't have to be sitting around in your underwear. I'm going to see if I can put something temporary on here before the judges pull you aside for closer inspection so that you'll be a little more comfortable."
As Belladonna went in search of some coverage, Gardenia remained standing and checking out his makeup in the mirror. Careful to keep the white dress away from any of the makeup covered work tables, Marinette snagged tape from a sewing station and began applying a thin layer over the offending seam while calling out "Juliette, I borrowed some tape from your kit!"
Cornflower and Carnation had joined Marinette as she sat applying the tape. "Any issues?" She inquired up to them, not taking her eyes off of her task.
"No issues here."
"Same."
"Good. Okay, so once the other two models come on over, we need to gather with everyone else and see what instructions we get."
Belladonna wandered back, a blue robe wrapped around her body, and Marinette stood with the temporarily altered dress. "Already time to de-robe again I'm afraid."
"So long as you fixed it."
I hope I've fixed things. I hope I haven't broken anything to begin with.
Closing up the back, Bittersweet came towards their group. "All done."
"Any issues with yours?"
"Nada."
"Junior designers, please gather at the runway entrance backstage to receive further instructions" crackled from the sound system.
It's time. I will not look. I cannot look. I have to look.
"Okay. Okay okay okay. Umm…." She met the gaze of the five models standing in a semi-circle around her. "I am going to go do that and I will be back to let you know how the close inspections are going to run. Try…try not to destroy anything last minute please!" She cried back at them as she began half-jogging to where her peers were gathering.
All five other designers were assembled in front of Nathalie, personal assistant to the CEO and head designer, when Marinette slipped into their ranks. "There has been a slight change of plans from years past. The younger Mr. Agreste has requested that all of the designers vacate the backstage area for the next hour as the judges come to take a closer look at all of the pieces and speak with the models."
Jean immediately piped up, irritation clear in his voice. "Why would he do that? We've always had the chance to defend our work—"
"And you still will" Nathalie interrupted. "Adrien has asked that he and the other judges be allowed to stray from tradition for this afternoon, which will give him time as a new executive to process some of his questions and concerns about each line. Gabriel has agreed. Next Monday all of you will have individual meetings with the design panel where you will be able to defend what you have put forth." Two no nonsense eyes surveyed the six faces in front of her. "So for now, please instruct each of your five models to stay dressed and stay together. They can expect to have judges coming by within the hour. Once you have given them their instructions, please make your way to conference room B. I will alert you all once the inspections are complete and you can come back to undress the models and safely store your pieces. We would like you to put them on dress forms and we will store them her in the main building over the weekend, so you won't have to worry about bringing them back from the workroom across the street next Monday. Do you understand your instructions?"
Nods all around. The more experienced junior designers such as Jean still appeared rather annoyed at this change in standard procedure, but first years like Juliette simply nodded along rather terrified. Marinette was simply numb. I will not see him. I cannot see him. It was as though she had received a stay of execution—but that didn't mean she had been pardoned. The inevitable was still imminent. And as much as she dreaded it, it was still something for which she had lofty hopes. I really hope he figured it out, because I'm not going to be able to say anything else at this point.
She relayed the pertinent information to her gaggle of models, wiping nonexistent lint off suit jackets and spinning the women to check for loose threads on their skirts. "Seam feeling okay?"
"Definitely better. I shouldn't have an issue making it through the rest of this affair."
"Beautiful. Perfect. Wonderful. Okay. I will leave you all to do what you do best."
Walking to join her fellow designers on their way to the conference room, her Tether tugged rather oddly. She could sense him getting closer right as she was leaving—the sun and the moon playing an eternal game of hide and seek.
"Please turn."
"Lift your arms."
"Marie, what do you think of the hemming on those pants?"
"These buttons aren't a good color for this fabric."
"I was more impressed from a distance. Up close it's looking clumsy."
"I have the opposite opinion on this other piece. It was underwhelming on the runway but there is clearly some very impressive work that went into it."
Questions, comments, and commands swirled through the air as the trio of judges moved through each grouping of models, whispering amongst themselves so as to keep their input private from the other designers' groups for the time being. Marie and his father posited most of the commentary, but Adrien was sure to ask two questions of each model before the trio moved on.
"How do you feel wearing the clothes?"
"Would you work with the designer again?"
The three of them made their way to the last set of models and Adrien prepared himself to pay closer attention than he had before. There it was—the black ensemble which had first caught his attention in her sketches yesterday and which he'd kept his eyes glued to when it had first appeared on the runway.
Silver embroidery which had shimmered under the stage lights was far more intricate up close. Delicate flowers twined up the waist coat, and he knew from when the model had walked that a similar design adorned the lining of the suit coat. The outfit undeniably resembled the cut and color of the one he had worn to the summer gala, and the meaning of secret love would certainly be fitting. The mask on the eyes almost sealed the deal.
"Reveals on the runway can add some drama and refreshment. I think this mini collection used that well" intoned Marie.
"There was a good use of symmetry as well with the black and white pieces bordering the blue piece in the middle."
"I agree. Although I worry that the entire collection may not be cohesive enough on the runway. The flower idea is…lovely, but she'll need to make sure that the floral details translate well to the audience. The embroidery on this piece" Marie gestured to the model in the white suit with red beadwork "Is nice up close but it is too small from far away to tell that it is floral in nature."
"I think that there are some subtler undercurrents which tie the collection together."
Gabriel arched his eyebrows at Adrien's interjection, inviting him to continue.
"These two" he pointed to the models wearing Gardenia and Carnation, beckoning them forward, "appear relatively simple, but utilize a well-placed reveal on stage to reveal an explosion of color—or silver—in this one's case. Of course, we've already pointed out the color balance so far. And all three pieces of menswear have a heavy focus on embroidery. So I think that there are some good things working for the collection."
"Hmm. Marie, of these pieces which would you have close fashion week."
"None of them. None of these would be quite enough, I think. But there were a few designs in the portfolio which I think could be a proper bookend."
Marie and Gabriel stepped forward to inspect the sewing quality of the pieces and Adrien began posing his questions to each model. Several of them he had worked with many times over the years, and like the models he had spoken to earlier in the evening, they were more than willing to loosen up and spill everything.
"She's adorable, I'd work with her again in a heartbeat."
"Very professional if a bit hectic—but you know designers on show days!"
"I love the suit. I don't know if I'd wear it out and about, but if your father invites me to his next gala I'd put it on in a heartbeat."
"Marinette was really sweet and quick on her feet. I swear there was something wrong with one of these seams and it was scratching my skin raw. But she did something to fix it up after I got off the runway and it's been more comfortable since."
"I'd wear this crop top suit any day of the week, so yeah I like it. And Marinette is so sweet, I've worked with her a few times the last few years and I'd gladly do it again."
His father and Marie were still discussing details between themselves, so he pulled his folio from under his arm and extricated Marinette's portfolio. He flipped between the sketches, mentally lining the five from today in the order they had strutted down the runway.
Secret love, Silence, Tenderness, Unforgettable love, and Truth.
Such a specific order. The story of love doesn't generically follow that order.
Gabriel made eye contact with his son and beckoned him to join him as he headed back up to his office. Marie stayed behind with Nathalie to finalize tear down and get the designers and models handled.
"You had rather interesting questions that you chose to ask. What did you hope to gain?"
"My fashion knowledge is one of association. I know far more than the average person because of the environment I have been in for the last decade and a half, but I have neither the technical knowledge nor the unnamable quality for spotting good fashion that you and Marie have. However, what I do have is my experience as a model."
"Hmm. Go on." They stepped off of the elevator together.
"Models are treated like inanimate objects. We see everything and hear everything in those rooms because many designers do not think to keep quiet around us. Some even fall into the fallacy of disrespecting models because they are indeed seeing them as objects. So those models have a wealth of insider knowledge and experience with each of the junior designers. And I have an in with them. I do not doubt that if it had occurred to you to ask them such questions, you would not have gotten the answers that I did."
Opening the door for his father to walk through, he continued "All of that is to say, I now have a fuller opinion on each of our designers. Those sloppy hems you noted on Anais' collection? According to her models she was hastily doing all of that around 2 P.M. while all of the other models were mostly dressed. Half of the models under Jean said they wouldn't be back to work for him—something that is important for us to understand when we need to book shows and when we choose who represents us as a brand."
"Hmm. That certainly is an interesting perspective. Make sure to type up all of your questions and comments for each designer before the sessions on Monday. Ask me or Nathalie for help if you need it." He sat at his desk, powering on his computer and pulling out some papers. "Oh, and Adrien, when can I expect you and your mystery woman at the manor tomorrow?"
Booting up his own computer he replied "I will work on figuring that out right now, father."
He opened discord and pulled up his lady's icon. It sat just a few spots above his private messages with Marinette. I really hope that I'm not making a mistake.
MrNoir: I followed your breadcrumbs. I think I know who you are. Even if I don't, I need to know soon. My father knows about the night that you spent at my apartment. He's demanding that I bring you by the manor tomorrow so he can handle some legal paperwork. I'm not sure what else he will want from you. But he will know who you are. He doesn't know that I haven't known your identity this whole time.
He moved on to focus on work for the next few hours, waiting to hear the ding which would break the purgatory he had created for himself. It didn't come until he had gone home for the night and begun preparing dinner for himself.
Lady: So who am I?
MrNoir: Well I'm 99% sure I know who you are. I'm a little worried to actually type it out because the last time I didn't realize who you were it was a bit of a mess, and I'd hate to do that to you twice if the 1% is right.
Lady: I am prepped and ready for emotional carnage. I have an emotional support roommate with me and everything.
MrNoir: You specifically said you were giving me breadcrumbs instead of clues. Was that meant to be wordplay on how you used to give me treats from your parents' bakery?
Lady: Well the good news is you're not an idiot twice over.
MrNoir: I feel like I'm not freaking out as much as I should. Should I be freaking out?
Lady: I'm past my freaking out stage. Do you want me to come over tonight?"
Adrien's head was swimming, his brows furrowed as he stared at his laptop screen and considered her offer. We definitely need to talk before facing my father tomorrow—but is it a good idea for her to come over? What if she gets the wrong idea? Is it the wrong idea?
MrNoir: Do you still have your elevator key? I've got some questions.
