Chapter 5

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Limply, I followed Heather as she crossed to a Mini Cooper in a vivid blue. "Fashion week?"

Heather grinned, a gap between her teeth winking at me. "Yeah! How intense is that?"

"It's certainly something." I collapsed into the passenger seat of little car. Heather started the engine and pulled up out onto Spencer Street, concentrating on the busy city roads and giving me time to mull over my destination.

Melbourne Spring Fashion Week was the premier event of the city. The previous year, we'd sent Taylor down to cover the final day, and she'd gloated for weeks about all the freebies she'd been given. I couldn't think of anything more tedious than spending time around stick-insects and the people who dressed them.

But, I'm meant to be opening my mind, I told myself. I shouldn't judge an entire industry based on a few episodes of America's Next Top Model. Maybe this will be fun...?

As Heather inched the car closer to the city square where Fashion Week set up shop, I asked, "So, what am I doing today?'

"Robbo has teed you up to work with Jordy Green today."

"Wow." Nerves began to ricochet through my chest, my heartbeat elevating. Jordy was a world famous Aussie designer, who'd clothed everyone from Kate Middleton to Cate Blanchett. Her designs were elegant and timeless – and only came in sizes 4-10. The only JG piece I'd ever owned was a floaty scarf, bought online because I was too intimidated to walk in the store just in case they kicked me to the curb, Pretty Woman style.

Heather nodded excitedly. "You'll be her personal assistant today, then help out other designers for the rest of the week. Only short days, from ten till three, then I'll pick you up and we can do something fun and grab dinner."

"Uh, we don't have to hang out after I'm done," I deflected. "I'm sure you have a life."

"No way! I'd love to chat with you." She pulled the car over to a taxi bay on Collins Street and handed me a lanyard with a press pass dangling from it, plus a tiny cooler bag. "That'll get you in backstage, and that's your lunch. Have fun!"

"Wait, you're not coming?" My stomach twisted in on itself. I'd known Heather for all of ten minutes, but the redhead was warm and open; the thought of leaving her and having to face a potentially hostile crowd of wraiths and calorie-counters seemed horrific.

She shook her head, the short spiky locks flipping back and forth. "Nah, I'll be around for filming on Thursday and for the live cross on Friday, but Robbo was insistent that you work the first three days alone. Don't worry; you'll rock it big!"

Feeling more like a big rock, I hefted myself out of the Mini. "See you at three, then."

"Bye!" She zoomed off into traffic, leaving me vulnerable by the side of the road.

Sighing, I flipped up the wide collar of my coat against the cool spring air, and plodded towards the clear tent on the square. All around me, city folk flowed, but as usual, I didn't get recognised; when I was on screen I was iconic, but on the street without makeup and Matt, I was just another ordinary tubby girl.

I slipped in the main entrance, briefly marvelling at the simplicity of the black runway surrounded by chairs. Although the show wasn't until 2pm, people already clustered around nattering quietly. At the top of the runway, black panelling separated the front of house from the back. I threaded my way through the seating, showed the mammoth security guard my pass and entered a different world.

The backstage area was like the inside of a hive; everywhere, people swarmed, buzzing around frantically, a solid wall of moving bodies.

And what bodies they were; the models caught my attention first, standing out from the common folk with their towering height and sinewy limbs. They were in every state of dress and undress as assistants frenetically adjusted hems or sewed them into garments. Breasts winked at me, all of them svelte and perfectly proportioned to the slim bodies they were attached to.

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