Chapter 2

Magnus POV

Ring, ring, ring.

Where was that damn phone? I almost fell out of bed before I could find it stuffed down in my pants that I had thrown off last night. What happened last night anyway? It doesn't matter right now the only thing that matters is getting that ringing to turn off, god it was making my hangover worse. My head was pounding and the ringing was only helping to make it pound harder. Who the fuck has the balls to call me at this time of morning anyway?

"This better be good because if it's something stupid you are going to fucking die!" the person on the other end of the phone laughed and I wondered who it was that I had just screamed at. Hopefully it wasn't anyone who wasn't used to it.

"Glad to see you still alive Magnus, but that's not the problem the problem is, is that today is the first day of Fashion Week and the shows start in an hour. In case you have forgotten you are showing today and if you're not here in an hour I will have a lot of explaining to do. So get out of whoevers apartment you ended up in last night and get your sparkly ass down here before we have a problem."

Ragnor hung up and I heard the dial tone ringing in my ear as I looked over at the clock. It was almost noon. Oh shit. I was so dead. I have to get out of here. I looked around for my clothes which somehow ended up in the kitchen and ran out the door, usually I'm not that rude to people I pick up at clubs, but I'm sure they don't mind. It was a one night thing anyway.

Where was I? I looked around at the buildings surrounding me and tried to figure out where the hell I was. Wherever it was it wasn't anywhere near my Brooklyn flat. A yellow taxi was parked on the side of the road and as I opened the door to get in the cab driver gave me a funny look. I looked down at myself and realized that in my haste to get out of the house I had put my shirt on backwards. I just laughed and told the man my address, I told him to hurry and he replied in some language that made absolutely no sense to me what so ever but it didn't matter that I couldn't understand him. This was New York no one understands half the people here anyway.

After what seemed like forever we pulled up outside my apartment and I threw a twenty at the cabbie before I got out. I was running up to my apartment when the door opened and my elderly neighbor stepped out, oh god not this.

"Magnus Bane what have you been doing all night you look like you got run over by a herd of horses," she asked looking at my appearance. I didn't answer her and only ran down the hall and opened the door to my penthouse apartment. The Chairman was asleep on the couch but I didn't have time to pet him I had to get going.

I was running through the house trying to get dressed when my phone beeped saying I had a text. I didn't even have to look to see who it was from, it was from Ragnor telling me to hurry up, but the truth was that you can't rush perfection, even when you really need to.

Almost an hour later I was ready, and you couldn't even tell I had spent most of my night drunk. My hair was spiked up in my trademark spikes that some people thought were lethal, and streaks of purple glitter were visible. My makeup was done to perfection with eyes lined in thick black kohl that highlighted my greenish yellow eyes and my eyes were painted purple to match my hair, but my outfit was the best part. I was known all throughout the country and maybe even the world for my outrageous fashion sense that matched my outrageous label. Tight black leather pants that were just a bit too tight a black shirt that sparkled every time I moved and a purple studded vest that added just the right touch of rocker chic to the outfit. It was perfect for Fashion Week and I thought that for getting dressed in less than an hour it was flawless.

I slipped my feet into my studded leather boots and walked out the door, I knew that my neighbor was watching out the peephole but I didn't care. This was the most important week of my life and I didn't give a fuck about anything but the fashion and of course my show would be the most amazing one at Fashion Week.

When I arrived I spotted Ragnor pacing the floor with his hand clinched so tight in a fist that I was sure he had broken skin once or twice with those nails of his. He looked up when I walked through the doors and his face broke out into a smile. Even though he had sounded mad on the phone we both knew that I wouldn't miss Fashion Week for anything, not even to get laid.

"Look you finally showed up. I was starting to think you had just decided to hop back into bed with whoever it was you went home with last night," he joked still smiling.

"Ha-ha very funny Ragnor but you know I don't do that. I leave as soon as I wake up. That might make me a man whore but I don't care." I was looking at my nails and realized that they were a bright blue that stood out with the rest of my otherwise dark look. Perfect.

Ragnor opened his mouth to say something but before he could even get a word out we were surrounded by people all screaming that this was an emergency. Models who were late and garment bags that had somehow gone missing and I was swept up in the rush of Fashion Week, trying to get everything in place in time so that I could catch the first show. Our show was closing and by the time that the rest of the shows had gone through, the people would be looking for something shocking. Here lately all of the shows have been boring and so commercial, but our shows were always something new and no one can say that they were bored at a Magnus Bane show.

The emergencies just wouldn't stop and I still had three models that were late, and it was starting to get on my nerves. Models shouldn't be late, shows were there jobs and it was just like working at a store if you were late you got fired, end of story. The only thing that kept them from being out on the street was the fact that I couldn't find three more models at such short notice.

People always talk about a models job like it's the most glamorous thing in the world, like they are the best thing in the fashion industry. Only people that actually know fashion know what models really are, they are literally walking clothes hangers with pretty- or sometimes not so pretty- faces. People had always told me I could be a model with my looks, but that part of the fashion industry never appealed to me. I had always wanted to be a designer, and now my dream had come true and I was at the top of the industry with everyone just trying to knock me down.

I had always found that the chaos just before a show was calming, I had seen some designers get very worked up over the smallest things that went wrong and I was always looking at them like they were crazy. Especially ones that were just starting out and this was only their second or third show, people like Isabelle Lightwood who was at the moment trying to help a model into her garment, a gorgeous red dress that looked to be a little on the Avant Garde side of the shows. The dress was spectacular with a red top made completely out of rhinestones that were sewn into a sheer fabric that was almost completely see through, it was supposed to give the appearance of the girls skin being made of rhinestones and the idea was something that I hadn't see before but had thought of doing for my fall collection. The dress was gorgeous but the young designer couldn't get the garment to fall right on the young African American model that was, in my opinion, as stunning as the dress.

I sighed and walked over to where the young girl was standing trying to get the dress to fall right. The train of the dress was getting tangled in the bodice and the effect was a hideous train wreck of red organza and rhinestones.

"Excuse me but you do realize that you have to get the train out from under the dress before it will lie correctly on her body," I said.

"Excuse me but don't you have better things to do than harass a designer," she replied without looking at me. I laughed to myself as I watched the girl try to do things her way and only add to the tangle of fabric. The model that had recognized me when I walked up was looking at me with wide eyes and when Isabelle snapped at me and basically told me to go away I heard her gasp quietly to herself. The model was now trying desperately to get Isabelle's attention and trying to tell her to turn around. Finally Isabelle looked up at the model her eyes were narrowed into slits and she seemed to be very annoyed. The model simply lifted her arm and pointed behind the designer at me. I thought all this was very funny and was trying not to laugh out loud at the obviously flustered look on the models face.

"Yes I know that creep is still watching me is that all you have to say because if not…" she was cut off by the models voice that was close to a shout by this point, "Isabelle Lightwood turn around because ' that creep' as you called him is Magnus freakin Bane!"

Isabelle froze and turned around slowly to see me laughing at her. Her pale skin turned bright red and she buried her face in her hands, "Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't mean to insult you. Oh god this is embarrassing, great job Izzy you just insulted the most successful person in the fashion industry since Alexander McQueen I'm so dead my career is over."

I just looked at the girl who was probably only three or four years younger than I am and I remembered my first show and how I never wanted anyone to help me and I was terrified around the other designers. I felt a pang of sympathy for the girl and reached out to try and comfort her but she just jerked away from me.

I moved around her and started trying to untangle the mess of fabric that had pooled under the tight bodice of the dress. The model was blushing as I worked and finally I got the train down where it should be and the dress fell in place the instant it was fixed. Isabelle had sat down on the floor by my feet with her face still buried in her hands.

"You know this dress is gorgeous," I said to no one in particular, "and the model in it is gorgeous as well." The model blushed again and fidgeted in her dress. I looked down at Isabelle to find her looking up at me with big eyes and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. I sat down next to her on the floor and waited for her to say something.

"I'm so sorry if I had known it was you I would never have called you a creep. Oh my god m career is so over I insulted Magnus Bane. My brother would be laughing at me right now, I'm so pathetic I can't even get a dress on a model without messing it up." She looked over at the model and her mouth dropped open, finally she met my eyes and I laughed again.

"Did you do that?" she asked. I nodded my head and she blushed bright red again. She got up off the floor and offered me her hand. I took it and she pulled me to my feet and smiled at me.

"Sorry I broke down on you," she apologized, "It's just that this is only my second show and I am so worried that people won't like it and I'm having to rush because I don't have any assistants and have to dress all the models by myself and I have ten more to go. This is just so overwhelming and I don't know what to do, now I've insulted one of the top fashion designers in the world right now and I'm just waiting for him to go and ruin me for calling him a creep."

"Isabelle I'm not going to ruin you for calling me a creep, I've been called much worse trust me on that one and you are an amazing designer. It's been a long time since I've seen anyone that has that much talent right in the beginning of their career. You are going to be big one day and now I think it's time that someone helped you. I was a new designer once and I remember the panic and the fact that I didn't have anyone to help me sucked ass. So I'm going to be you assistant for the show, now where's the next model."

Her mouth was hanging open and she was looking at me in utter shock, "thanks so much but you don't have to do that, don't you want to watch the shows I mean this is Fashion Week. You certainly have better things to do than help me."

"Chickadee, here's a little secret of the industry for you. The only shows you need to watch are those that seem worth watching and your own. I know the lineup and trust me I won't be missing anything."

She nodded at me and went to get the next model and garment, the girl in the red dress was still staring and I was struck again by how unique this models beauty was. She wasn't like the others who were so plain it was almost painful, she belonged in shows like Isabelle's and like mine, the ones with a shock factor.

"And you," I said "You are stunning what's you name I would love to have you in one of my shows."

Her eyes widened and she seemed to be at a loss for words, "Maia," she finally managed to get out.

"Well Maia I guarantee that we will be in touch," I promised and meant it. Like Isabelle this girl was something fresh, and something extremely beautiful and talented. It was at this time that Isabelle returned with the next model and the next dress. This model was beautiful as well with pale skin covered in freckles and emerald green eyes, her hair was bright red and looked to be almost fake, but there were subtle highlights in it that told me it was natural. Isabelle had obviously already mastered the first step in having a show with a shock factor. The right models.

The dress the girl was going to wear was perfect for her, the color was a dark almost black silk with straps that almost resembled vines in the way they moved down her back. It was something that I had never seen before and it was a good surprise to see something so perfect come from such a young designer. After a bit of problems with the straps the dress was on and the next model was walking in. The conversation flowed easily between us as we worked and she seemed to get more comfortable around me as time went on. It was only when the topic turned to her family did things get interesting.

See longer I told you, anyway poor Izzy and sorry for any OCness the story is Au anyway so there is bound to be a little.