FLAWLESS

CHAPTER 20

Shanelle POV

I stood backstage, my heart pounding in my chest like a relentless drumbeat. The air was thick with anticipation and the bustling energy of the crew. They surrounded me, adjusting my dress, touching up my makeup, and fixing every strand of my hair. Their hands were gentle, their voices assuring, but I couldn't shake the nervous tremors that consumed me.

I clasped my trembling hands together, desperately hoping that no one would notice my anxiety. The backstage chaos was overwhelming. People scurried around, prepping models, and ensuring they would gracefully walk down the runway when their moment arrived. Despite repeatedly reminding myself that I had done this countless times before, the anxiety refused to dissipate. Vincent's image invaded my mind, clouding my thoughts and gripping my heart in a vise.

What he had done to me really took a toll on me leaving me feeling broken and in tears for three endless days. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remove him from my thoughts. Even now, as I stood here, his presence lingered, casting a shadow over my every move. The weight of that pain added an unbearable pressure, threatening to jeopardize this important event for everyone involved.

Finally, the crew stepped away, satisfied that I was ready. I rushed to the changing room, desperately searching for my handbag. I needed to find my anxiety attack pills. My breathing grew erratic, and I knew I had to take at least one tablet to make it through the runway. Among the flurry of my desperate search, the bottle slipped from my trembling hands, and the pills spilled onto the floor. Panic surged through me as I realized I didn't have time to pick them up or take more.

Just then, a backstage crew member called out to me, "Shanelle! You're on in ten seconds!"

My heart leaped into my throat. I hurriedly left the room, lifting the edge of my dress to prevent tripping. There was no turning back now.

As I stepped onto the runway, a fragile smile plastered across my face, the blinding flashes of cameras greeted me. The voices of the audience swelled, surrounding me like a tempest. My head began to spin, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. Desperately, I clutched my temples, hoping to steady myself. But as I scanned the room, I realized I couldn't see anyone. The crowd, shrouded in darkness, became an indistinguishable mass.

The relentless onslaught of camera flashes intensified, igniting a blazing inferno of anxiety within me. The room spun faster, blurring my vision. I fought to maintain my composure, to keep moving forward. But the world swirled around me, a merciless whirlwind of chaos and fear.

And then, darkness claimed me.

I awoke to a cacophony of concerned and shocked reactions from the audience. Their voices merged into a disorienting chorus. The weight of their gaze bore down upon me as I lay on the stage, a fallen star amidst their sea of bewildered expressions. Panic surged through me once more, mingling with embarrassment and shame.

Strong arms lifted me from the ground, carrying me away from the glaring spotlight. As my vision gradually cleared, I caught glimpses of worried faces, the backstage crew rushing to my aid. Their eyes brimmed with a mixture of relief and concern.

My head throbbed faintly, adding to my disorientation. I needed clarity, understanding. And then, like a lifeline in the chaos, Ava, my manager, appeared by my side, offering a bottle of water.

"What happened?" I managed to murmur, my voice barely a whisper amidst the palpable tension. The eyes of those around me seemed to hold a mix of worry and bewilderment, further fueling my growing sense of unease.

Ava's gaze softened, her voice laced with genuine concern. 

"Sweetie, you fainted on stage. Do you really not remember anything?"

I slowly shook my head, the fog in my mind refusing to dissipate. 

"My memory is a little hazy at the moment."

Ava sighed, straightening herself up and calling out to one of the backstage crew. 

"Can someone call our driver and Milly? Can you please get Shanelle's things and bring them to me?"

A girl named Milly, who had been standing nearby, responded quickly. 

"Yeah, sure." She darted off towards the changing rooms, leaving Ava and me to face the bewildering aftermath of my sudden collapse.

"Thanks," Ava murmured to Milly's retreating figure, her attention returning to me. 

"Do you feel nauseous or sick, maybe? Do you want me to take you to the hospital for a check-up?"

Shaking my head once again. "No thanks. I just wanna go home."

Understanding flickered in Ava's eyes as she nodded. Milly soon returned, carrying my handbag and clothes, which she handed to Ava. With gentle guidance, Ava helped me to my feet, and together we left the venue, heading towards our waiting car.

The drive back home was a blur, the passing scenery a mere backdrop to my jumbled thoughts. Upon arrival, Ava supported me as we made our way inside. The emptiness of the house greeted us, as Beatrice and Kayleen were still out. Ava helped me change out of my outfit, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin. She dressed me in comfortable sweats and gathered my hair up in a loose bun at the top of my head.

Finally seated on the couch in my living room, I felt numb, the weight of the evening's events bearing down upon me. Ava turned on the television, hoping to provide a temporary distraction. My eyes were drawn to the screen, and a sense of foreboding settled within me.

As if timed with my growing trepidation, the latest news update flashed across the screen. My heart lurched as the video of my fainting episode on the runway played, capturing the attention of millions of viewers. 

The news anchor's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts once again, drawing my attention back to the television. 

"Shanelle's representatives have released a statement, assuring the public that she is receiving medical attention and that her health is of utmost importance. However, this incident raises questions about the pressures faced by those in the fashion industry and the toll it can take on one's physical and mental well-being."

I watched myself crumble, my body betraying me before a captivated audience. It felt surreal, witnessing my own vulnerability laid bare for the world to see. I felt a heavy sense of judgment weighing on me, like a big storm about to happen in my mind. This was the moment that made me realize I wasn't perfect, despite the image I had tried so hard to create. From now on, people would see me differently, no longer thinking I was flawless and untouchable.

I was filled with anxiety, and it made me worry a lot. The carefully crafted image I had made, the perfect version of myself that people admired, was now in danger of falling apart. I didn't know how to handle the uncertain future, with everyone watching me and knowing about my flaws.

I prepared myself for the difficult times ahead, not sure who I would become when everything settled down.