Shoutout to @VinMcCarthy for including me in his flash fiction prompt. This is my first time writing this, so be easy on me. I'm going with prompt #1 (I'm a fashion girl):
It's fashion week in Milan. You're running your first runway and things are going smoothly, right up until the show's about to start.
My assistant whips her head around to stare at me as I scream a few more expletives into the air.
"Why does everything have to go wrong now?!"
As much as it pains me to be overdramatic, I can't resist screaming a highly exaggerated phrase.
It had cost me way too much to start my fashion-designing career for it to end in flames.
I had quit my cushy, stable job. I had worked my ass off (literally) as a fashion designer’s assistant for four years to even be given a chance to show my designs.
I had worked endless nights to perfect my pieces, and the bags under my eyes were there to show it.
I was in debt.
My friends didn’t understand why I wanted to do this. Many of them had given up on inviting me to hang out.
And now it all seemed to be crumbling to the ground.
One model had called in sick.
The shoes hadn’t been delivered from the warehouse.
As in the only shoes we had were the raggedy sneakers I had on my feet and the flip-flops the models had come in wearing.
Oh, and did I mention the show is starting in five minutes?
It's the stuff of nightmares. Except this was real. Really real.
Just as I'm about to throw my hands up and completely give up on this show (and possibly my fashion dream), my phone buzzes on the makeup table beside me.
“No matter what, we’ll always be proud of you. Knock em dead.”
That text from my mom sends a spark of adrenaline and determination through my entire body.
No matter what.
No matter what, I’m going to send my designs down that runway.
No matter what, I’m going to hold my head high as I came out to meet the crowd.
No matter what, I’m going to try to make my dream come true.
And, damn it, no matter what, people are going to be glad they came to see this collection.
No matter what.
It's all about perspective.
I look back at the group of models with no shoes and my assistant with a exasperated look on her face.
I smile, which only makes her look more concerned.
“You — put on that dress,” I tell her. “You’re dreams of modeling are coming true today.”
The confusion on her face doesn't mask her excitement.
“Models,” I yell. “No shoes today. You are going barefoot.”
It was a resort collection anyway, so who needs shoes?
The lights dim and the music starts.
As I peer out from behind the curtains as the models strut down the runway, I overhear a conversation from two women in the front row.
“Shit,” one of them says.
“These designs are beautiful.”