timeless memories || mirabel madrigal X female reader

15. that day I almost became a fashion designer

"Welcome ! Welcome, take a sit !" Your mother hurries in the front of her workshop, where she usually received clients. This time, it was Mirabel and you. You had briefly thought of acting like a very important customer, bringing your sunglasses and finding a furr coat somewhere, but you put it aside. You didn't have the energy for this.

"Good morning, señora Muñoz." Mirabel smiles as your mother sits on the sofa next to you.

"Hola, Mirabel. I see (Y/n) got out of bed to accompany you here. You must be very important to her."

"Listen-" You try to defend yourself, considering lying and saying that no, 9AM wasn't early for you on a Saturday morning, but the both if them already knew about your sleeping habits, so it was no use.

"Mom ?" Rita walked out your mother's atelier, her face lightening up as she saw you. "(Y/n) ! Sol, (Y/n)'s here !"

She was hugging your legs the next second, soon joined by Sol, as if they didn't see you two hours before this. You patted their head with a proud smile, showing Mirabel how much of a great big sister you were.

She rolls her eyes. You make an offended face, turning to your mother for support.

She rolls her eyes as well. The betrayal.

The first time she had taken the twins together to her workplace went extremely well. Rita took a passion for embroidery, while Sol liked to draw some cute patterns for the fabric. So she took them there every weekend. Both of them were always calm when working in the atelier. As for Esme, she was delighted to have the house for herself.

Your mother tells you the plan of the today. You don't listen, too busy trying to get Rita off your lap and Sol away from your hair. You were already tired.

"Alright." Your mother switches the lights of her atelier on, and Mirabel stops a second to look at the pieces that were waiting to be finished on the large tables, the fabric abandoned on the floor and the eerie atmosphere the large windows covered with handmade curtains created in general. You always liked this room as well, but were never really interested in the sewing thing. You weren't good at it anyway, and your mother sort of gave up on asking you for help when she had too much work, admitting you weren't made for this at all.

"(Y/n), why don't you draw some patterns with Sol ? You never really tried that out, maybe that'll actually interest you." Your mother snaps you out of your thoughts as you were looking at Mirabel's delighted face for a bit too long, nudging you.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna do that. C'mon, little monster." You ruffle Sol's hair as you pass by her, and you both settle at the table she was drawing at earlier. You look over at her designs, seeing a few that were truly pretty and others that were... Interesting.

Rita sits on the floor, in her own world as she works on her new embroidery with a focused frown.

You pretend to start drawing, discreetly watching Mirabel from across the room as she manipulates the creations your mother showed her with sparkling eyes. She seemed so happy, and the excitement she tried to hide made you smile.

"(Y/n), you're making it obvious." Sol whispers quietly, snickering at your horrified expression.

She knows.

Of course she knows, Sol sees everything. While Esme and Rita aren't usually paying attention to their surroundings, the youngest twin did and always knew when something was up. That is why, when she was separated from Rita, she was often extremely mature and quiet. But her twin always brought her wild side out.

"Aight, I know you won't tell anyone about it but I'm still gonna say it : not a word to Rita."

She rolls her eyes. "If you told Rita, the whole town would know by now. I'll keep your secret to my grave."

"Hey, hopefully you don't need to. Things could work out, maybe."

She gives you a pitiful look. "Yeaaah. Of course, you can totally pull that off."

Damn. Sometimes you wished Sol could be a bit less realistic. You'd never have the guts to make an actual move on Mirabel.

"Shut up." You start working for real this time, and Sol snorts at your mindblowing answer.

Eventually you drift off from your actual project and start sketching a dress that you thought would look cool. Pretty content with the result, you put down your pen and stretch your sore limbs, yawning loudly.

"I think (Y/n)'s tired, not sure about it though. What do you think, girls ?" Your mom laughs as she leaves her sewing machine to come check on whatever you were doing. "Oh... Mija..."

"Ah !" You jump, quickly hiding your drawing, embarrassed. "Don't look. I'll go back to that pattern thing, sorry."

"No, let me see that again. That's good, excellent even ! Nice design, love the waist-"

"Noooooo..." You whine as Sol swiftly snatches the paper from under your arms. Everyone gathers around the room to see as you desperately sink into your seat. As you were low enough to hide under the table, Mirabel spoke, making you sit back up.

"Wow. I love it, (Y/n)."

You stare at her, agape, as your mother studies the drawing with a small smile. "Nice job, daughter. I found my new design."

"Are you stealing my work ?" You narrow your eyes, outraged.

"Yes."

"Alright." You shrug, taking another sheet of paper to start another drawing. As you began tracing a new pattern, your mother stopped you.

"No, no. You're working on new designs, mija. I think you have a talent for this."

You look at Mirabel, unsure. She gives you am encouraging nod, so you just shrug and erase whatever you were doing, thinking hard to find inspiration.

"You girls go back to work." You say lowly, like some kind of meditating fashion guru. "I can't make such amazing work of art under pression, I need good vibes."

They all sigh, disappointed in your sudden burst of ego. You snicker to yourself, proud of what you just did.

"You'll see, you'll see." You mumble to yourself, hesitantly starting on a new dress. "I'll create my own brand and it'll be known worldwide."

"Oh, yeah ?" Sol raises a questioning eyebrow, shaking her head. "What will you call it ?"

"Uh... Ver... Sa... Versachee." You shrug. You didn't know where that idea came from.

"Versace ?"

"Versachee, not Versace !"

"That's shit. Nobody will want to buy from your brand with a name like that."

"No swearing !" Your mother yells from across the room, where her and Mirabel are working on your design already. "But it is, in fact, a shit name."

"Just wait and see, young one. I believe I will succeed. I have great capacities." You solemnly say as you turn back to your sister, nodding to your own words.

You did not succeed. You abandoned the idea after you realized you didn't have enough inspiration.

Maybe it was all because of the name. You should have called it Versace.

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