Vogue | Tony Stark

THIRTY ONE - SINS

Like everything in her life, Estélla Goldwyn outdid herself on the runway that afternoon. Her worries about not having a face to look for in the crowd were instantly put to bed when she stepped foot in front of the sea of people, every single one of them jumping to their feet and holding their hands above their head in applause for her, cheering and screaming her name over the sound of Justin Timberlake's vocals.

The roar made the hairs on the back of Esté's neck stand on end and her heart skip a beat. Her steps came effortlessly and the floor seemed to light up wherever she placed her high heel, adoration raining down on her like silver stars that she caught in enthusiastic waves and spins of her hips, flicking her hair over her shoulder before returning back down the catwalk.

Quick costume changes with seconds between her walks made it impossible for Esté to even dare to think about anything besides slipping out of one lingerie set and into another on time, and for the two hours that the show lasted that day, Esté felt happy.

She strutted down the runway like it belonged to her, and as the crowd cheered for her every time she appeared again in another ravishing costume with a dazzling smile bright enough to stop the pull of the universe, Esté began to feel like it truly did belong to her. She felt as though the entire world was beneath her feet and she held the keys to the gates, like the sun would rise and set on her command and the stars and moon would shine brighter if she so wished.

She blew kisses to the crowd and happily twirled beneath Justin Timberlake's arm as he sang to her with diamonds in his eyes, looking at her as if he almost couldn't believe he had the grace and honour of being able to touch her.

It was an ego boost that Estélla didn't necessarily crave, but one she inwardly acknowledged that she needed. Her feet were still planted firmly on the ground, the same way they always had been, but as Esté walked off the runway for the last time, she breathed in a sigh not of relief, but of pride in herself.

"Oh my God! You are incredible, how are you even real?"

Esté fell into the arms of Katy and Alicia, both of them gushing with excitement and rosy cheeks, wild grins and excited eyes. She relaxed against them and let her shoulders slump, grabbing a bottle of water as the three of them walked over to her vanity together, arms around each other.

"It wasn't bad?" Esté raised a brow and polished off the water in five seconds.

"Bad?" Alicia scoffed, "Are you insane? That was honestly one of the best walks I've ever seen, like ever. You were flawless, Esté, you blew it out of the fucking water."

A humble smile lifted her eyes and she embraced her friends again, almost shaking with excitement as a flurry of happiness and adrenaline swirled around in her stomach, euphoria flooding her veins and pulling a golden shade across her eyes.

"You need to see this," Katy said, pulling her phone from her pocket.

"No," Esté immediately said, holding up her hand, "I don't want to see anything to do with-"

"It's not that," Katy shook her head excitedly, biting down on her lip as she scrolled for a few seconds before turning the phone around to show her the screen, "You've been nominated for supermodel of the year, Estélla."

For the second time that day, Esté felt the breath get snatched from her lungs. Only that time, her jaw dropped in a disbelief that didn't skin her alive and leave her veins dry, it left her feeling weightless, feeling like she was falling into raptures of paradise through clouds of exhilaration, pride brimming in her blue eyes as tears welled.

"I-is this a joke? Are you serious?" She said, her hesitance holding back any premature excitement.

"Deadly serious," Alicia grinned, "Congratulations, Esté!"