"How is she ?"

"Um," Andy fiddled with her hair, talking on a cell phone outside, while staffers smoked hastily and shook their heads, "Well, you know how she is… "

"No, tell me."

There was the sound of crying, and Andy pressed herself against the wall as Eureka hurried past, throwing his gown to the floor and stamping on it.

"It's good enough! I'm good enough!"

Andy rubbed her neck. "Um, tempers are high."

"Do you get her coffee? Her newspapers? You know, we're sitting ducks here, Andrea."

Andy glanced over her shoulder and saw Michelle walk past. "I've gotta go. She's been in her dressing room all day with the Book, talking to Jocelyn and Nigel - "

"The issue doesn't stop for anything, Andrea!"

Andy hung up and watched with biting nails as Michelle rapped on the dressing room door. The door opened, and Andy hung back, watching the short exchange, and the door slammed shut. Michelle paused, huffing, then turned and pulled down her blouse, catching sight of Andy. Andy pulled what she hoped was a sympathetic smile, hurrying over to the closed dressing room and knocking on it.

She heard a voice from the depths within. "Yes?"

Andy opened the door, glancing around. The room was fragrant with flowers, full of copy spread out on the table and a white silk scarf was adorned over one arm of the chair. A makeup assistant, her eyes red, sat in a corner with a palette of colors, while a hair stylist sniffed and pulled down her skirt. From the ensuite, Miranda walked out, placing one hand on her hip and beadily staring at Andy who quickly fumbled for a notepad.

"Ahn-dre-ah. Tell Carson I want to go over the programme for tomorrow's shoot. I do not feel it is appropriate for the girls to imitate me on their panel. Then tell Kate to stop bothering me. She is here for this, not for Runway . Also, have the lighting fixed on the main stage. I could hardly see the act from that girl with the hair."

Andy scribbled while Miranda sat at the chair, and the beauticians leapt into action. The hair stylist put her tongue through her teeth, the makeup assistant's hands shook to raise a brush, and they both leapt apart as Miranda stood once more, her teeth bared.

"Did you hear me, Ahn-dre-ah? Or were you too busy looking at your feet?"

Andy tried to raise her head but kept her gaze to the ground. "Sorry, Miranda - "

"You're damn right, Ahn-dre-ah. We have a serious problem if you cannot do your job."

Andy glanced up, just as Miranda turned to sit on the chair once more. Andy turned and fled, her hand on the doorknob, tensing just as she heard the familiar voice.

"Ahn-dre-ah?"

Andy slowly turned, her voice a squeak. "Yes?"

"Tell Michelle she has no need to be on the panel if she's going to be difficult."