13. sushi, secrets, and... loafers?

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After a much-needed day off that involved minimal movement and maximal Netflix watching, it was time to return to the grind. A phone call to Mila was inevitable. I knew it, she knew it, hell, even the birds tweeting in the trees knew it. So, with a mixture of anticipation and dread, I picked up my phone and gave her a ring. When she answered, her voice dripped with the kind of smugness that only a best friend could muster. After our chat, I felt a strange sense of liberation. Mila's reaction had been so predictably Mila that it made my own turmoil seem almost comical. I was coming to terms with the idea that maybe, just maybe, this unexpected twist in my life wasn't such a disaster after all. 

The next week of training had kicked off like any other. Well, almost like any other. You see, the glaring difference was the not-so-subtle secret that Alexia and I shared. It was like a juicy piece of gossip, but instead of the entire world being in on it, only we knew what had transpired between us. And believe me, we were determined to keep it that way.

One afternoon after training, I had just taken a triumphant bite out of a delicious piece of sushi when my phone buzzed ominously on the table. I glanced at it, furrowing my brows in suspicion. An incoming call from my manager, Nicole, at this hour was usually a harbinger of chaos, or at the very least, a whirlwind of last-minute scheduling adjustments that sent my meticulously planned day into a tailspin.

As I reached for my phone, Ingrid gave me an encouraging smile, her mouth still full of sushi. "Who's the culprit this time?"

I swiped the screen and put the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

Nicole's voice, brimming with its usual no-nonsense efficiency, cut through the background noise of our favourite sushi place. "Isabela, I hope you're not in the middle of anything important."

I glanced at the half-eaten roll on my plate, sighed internally, and replied, "Not really, just sushi." She went straight to the point, "Great. I hope you're ready to change your lunch plans because Giorgio Armani's team has requested your presence for an editorial shoot today."

"Giorgio Armani?" I choked on my California roll, trying to reconcile the idea that I was suddenly needed for a shoot with one of the world's most iconic fashion labels. I hadn't done shoots for this big of a name since I was in London.

Ingrid's eyes widened as she noticed my reaction. Swallowing my roll with haste, I covered the phone with my hand and informed her of the unexpected turn of events. She nearly spat out her food with excitement, giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Isabela, are you there?" Nicole's voice pulled me back to the call.

"Yeah, yeah," I stammered. "That's amazing. I mean, I'm honoured, and it's Armani, for crying out loud, but how are we going to make this happen so last minute?"

Nicole's tone remained unwavering. "Don't worry, the shoot location is about twenty minutes from your house. A car will be waiting for you to take you in about half an hour. Your wardrobe and everything you need will be there."

Ingrid was now looking at me with wild anticipation, and I tried to wrap my head around the whirlwind unfolding before me. "That's... incredible, Nicole. Thanks for making it work."

"Armani requests, and we make it happen," she replied with a hint of pride. "Now, finish your sushi, go home, pack your bags, and get ready to meet Flavio, he's the manager." After I hung up, Ingrid let out an exuberant cheer. "Armani, Isabela! You're going to be in Armani!"

I grinned, filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves. "I can't believe it. I actually can't believe it."


-

After what felt like an eternity of posing and putting various garments on and off and on and off, I finally had arrived back home around six. Exhausted but not drowsy. I called my mother and told her about the shoot, simultaneously preparing for the dose (or overdose) I would receive of family gossip which would most certainly ensue after the praise. 

Suddenly, just as the gossip started to commence, my phone chimed with a text from Alexia. Asking if I had any plans for tonight. With a smirk, I replied that I didn't. 

STARGIRL, alexia putellasDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora