i. MEDICINE harry styles [ON HOLD]

xiii. ETA

MARCH 5, 2018.
— PARIS, France

Despite knowing that it was technically his last fashion week day, Adrian felt like there was much of his time still to go. It was his busiest and most dense day, but there was so many events he was looking forward too, it was hardly overwhelming.
His chauffeur would be arriving at seven in the morning to take the model to his Givenchy fitting, which would most likely lead right up the Chanel show, which directly backed onto Miu Miu. Following that, he would have a small few hours before his next event, the biggest of them all.
He had been told that the fitting was with the Givenchy Fall designer, but, as fancy as that seemed, it was a very relaxed environment. Given this, he dressed in some name brand leisure wear.
The building blended with the Parisian architecture, resembling a hotel. He wasn't really sure where he was going, so he entered hoping there would be signage. No later did a secretary appear and greet him. She wound upstairs and through hallways filled with various fashion services, most unmarked. Finally, they were met with an luxurious sitting room, that entered off into a room full of hanging items. The secretary told Adrian the designer would be there in five minutes, then served tea, coffee, and a light brunch platter. He sat idly, and drank a milky black tea.
"Hello, Mr Ingham!" The designer, a bubbly middle aged woman entered with a male assistant, greeting Adrian warmly. There was a few minutes of small talk before they were sat down for business.
"Now, we were given an extensive list of your measurements about a month ago, so we've already manufactured a few different clothing options. It's very important, of course, to have time for any alterations, but I do apologise for the early start."
Adrian smiled. "Not a problem, I'm sure you've been crazy busy. So what's the look we're going for, tonight?"
   "Bold elegance. You are this down-to-earth, real activist. But at the same time, you're this figure, who in a very new and small career, has a voice of influence that has the potential to be limitless. We want you to look ethereal, in clothing and makeup, like some kind of subtle god. I've been thinking this up quite intently, so I apologise if I'm rambling." The pair laughed together, Adrian mesmerised. "This is essentially your debut, you've never done an event like this. Never do New World showcase someone who doesn't already have a very well
known career—people know there's something enticing about you. They will, though, have low expectations because you're so fresh. We want to make them mesmerised by you, not the clothes alone, you as an entity. Does that make any sense?"
   Adrian grinned, "perfect sense, you're very talented, your words say that much."
   The woman blushed. "Of course, you've also been paired with Styles, whose presence and fashion is, in simple words, iconic. His absence we have to compensate. In the past, Givenchy has done very simple, beautiful wear, I want to test this. Our relationship with NW is exceptionally important. You'll be dressed in entirely custom wear, designed only by me. If everything's about reputation, this is a big gig for me personally."
   Adrian felt some pressure, but the designer spoke so calmly, his emotions remained maintainable.
"Shall we go look?" The designer guided a bet eager Adrian into the room full of clothes. It was full of sleeved items, some with names on them, other labelled with season and collection. At the end of the long room, beside a window that looks onto idyllic boulevard, they stopped. The male assistant and designer shared the load of clothes. Filling the silence with light chatter once more, the pair led Adrian to a curtained room he hadn't seen earlier; a change room.
   There were plenty hooks, to which all the items, save four boxes, were hung. The designer considered the clothes, then turned to Adrian.
   "Okay, we have three full sets, we'll start with the tamest, perhaps." She and her assistant then began to help Adrian dress (which was perfectly normal, given the situation). If they noticed the light scars that decorated parts of him, visible when close, they said nothing.
   Not long after, the tall boy stood on a pedestal, in front of a large mirror. The outfit was unusual, no doubt, but not outrageous. It was a tight silk, white turtleneck shirt that crept in tight frills up to his earlobe. Around his neck had been placed a very expensive looking, thick diamond choker. The pants, equally as silk and white, billowed out from his midriff, almost like a skirt. His shoes were basic, pointed black dress ones.
The assistant, at the direction of the designer, took pictures then left to print them.
"It's stunning," said Adrian. The designer looked unsure, and almost frustrated. "Don't you think so?"
"It's good, indeed. I apologise, I was just thinking of how I should have had you cast for our runway." Adrian blushed modestly. "But anyway, outfit is good, it stands out. But it is very white. I'm not sure, I just don't think, now that I see it on you, I don't want something this bright."
Adrian nodded. "So it's got to be the next one?"
"Pretty much. I saved the best til last, though. This one is my favourite. Although, I'll have to warn you, it's not a one person job to put on."
   "Why's that?"
   "It involves a corset."