apocalypse | charles leclerc ✓

chapter 7 | on thin ice

«I'm trying to be cool about it, feeling like an absolute fool about it.»

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Her manager did not sound exactly...content. Pretty distressed, actually. The perfect word to describe it. Sloane picked at her nails, wincing from time to time while the words poured from Vivianne like water. She was paying attention though, contrary to what the woman generally believed, she did listen. For the most part, at least. It wasn't scolding, because Vivianne didn't scold people, but the tone used didn't reach any level of happiness if she wanted to feel reassured.

And that was why she listened and tried not to utter a single sound that would make things worse.

"I don't care if Charles will be racing in front of the Queen of England, the Pope or Jesus Christ himself, I need you in Milano for Lorenzo's fashion show." Vivianne heaved a sigh, then continued, because she wasn't done with it yet. Sloane wondered how she could speak so many words without losing her breath. "You promised that you'd be walking for his new collection and I better see you here or so help me god, Sloane."

Okay. No problem, she could do that.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, and something akin to a nervous snort bubbled out of her. Clearing her throat to show seriousness, she recovered. "You sound a bit, uh," She hesitated before carrying on. "Upset."

"I'm not upset, Sloane," Vivianne said with a sharp tone. She wasn't happy either, the model thought funnily. "I'm stressed because I have an overworked and overdramatic designer in my messages reminding me that one of his favourite models should be walking for his show, while said model is probably spending all her time in Monaco with her boyfriend. Am I wrong about this?"

Not at all. In fact, she had nailed a pretty good description of the current situation. "No, you're very correct."

"Look," Another sigh. A tired — super tired bordering the line of done — sigh. She needed to apologise to her manager with more than words at that point. "I have been covering for you these past months. Moving commitments when you want to be with your boyfriend and so on, but if you do not come here for Lorenzo's show, that man is going to have a heart attack, Sloane. I know how much you love him, so I'm sure you won't bail on him, but please also remember he's friends with your mother, and if your parents find out you're stalling with your job...it's not going to be nice. You'll get lectured, especially by your father."

She wouldn't call it stalling. More like being selective. Alright, fine, she'd been quite irresponsible regarding her career in the past months. She wasn't stupid not to admit her wrongs. But whatever, she could manage to get back on track.

It couldn't be that hard.

"Vivianne. Viv. The best manager in the world—"

"Quit it, and just confirm when you'll be arriving." She cut her off before Sloane could go off with a whole round of sugarcoating to save her arse. Vivianne already knew the whole drill. "Because I won't be accepting any excuse this time. Neither will Lorenzo."

As if she'd bail on the designer. It was almost offensive to think so. "I'll be taking the first flight, train, whatever I can catch, to Italy. Don't worry, and tell Lore to slow down a little. Talk to him about mint tea or I don't know...sedatives. I heard lavender is good for relaxation as well. It'll be fine."

"Yeah, it'll be fine when you're here in front of us."

"I'm sorry, I'll be there. Swear." The worst part was her manager was getting used to it, and if they were face-to-face, Sloane knew she'd be dismissing the apology with a hand gesture and glaring. It was the meanest Vivianne could be with her. "If I wanted to invite Charles to this show...do you think Lore would mind?"