Chapter 15. I'd Rather Die Of Passion Than Of Boredom

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"You'll never believe what I just found out." Cash says before I can swallow my first bite of salad.

As I quickly do so and realize the salad to dressing ratio is painfully off but ignore it and reply, "That I'm going back to school and will be the popular one?"

"Nope, but it's even better."

"How is popularity nice? You barely have privacy and have to keep up an image even when you feel like a zombie."

"Point taken." Cahs surrenders. "What I meant to say was I was talking to my Mom about possibly having an item of clothing more affordable to the general public. I was saying that you have some pieces in mind. She was planning on speaking to you after lunch about this but I wanted to give you a heads up so you wouldn't be too surprised."

TOO LATE I think as I process the information. This could be my gateway to starting my own fashion buissness! But on the other hand it sounds too good to be true. "Are you pulling my leg?" I ask at last.

Horror spreads across Cash's face. "Hell no! Do you seriously think I would like about something like this? I thought this was your dream."

"It is." I reassure him. "But I thought your Mom only wanted the luxurious items reserved for the rich. I don't know what she'll say about my designs. If Ive only shown them to a few people how can I show them to Phoebe Alva, one of the most infamous names in all of fashion history?"

Cash ignores my panicked face and smiles instead. "Has everyone youve shown liked your designs?" I nod. "Do they think you could possibly start a bigger buissness rather than just off the computer?" Anothor nod. "Do you think you could do something with them one day?" No comment there and Cash sighs. "Challenges is what makes life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful. With confidence, you've already achieved it before you even make the first step."

Now it's my turn to sigh. "I guess I see your point." We continue eating until we both go back to our respective jobs. Sure enough just as I get settled in my seat Phoebe approaches my desk.

"I would like to speak with you." She declares and turns on her heel. I spring out of the chair and follow her to her office where I take a seat on the visitor's chair. Phoebe removes her glasses and watches me with her piercing green eyes. Her gaze is enough to make anyone squirm and I almost do until I remind myself to snap out of it and imagine her as any other person.

"I think you are aware that the other day my son, Cash came to me on the subject of including your designs in my campaign. I must say I was very opposed to the idea at first but the more he explained it the more it made sense. The general public can't afford to spend their hard-earned money on luxury pieces from high-end brands and something...closer to home would be a better fit for them. I will be open to this idea but I must first see your designs and deem them good enough. I expect to view them tommorow at this time."

It is at this point I pinch myself to convince myself I'm not dreaming as she continues. "The photoshoot is in one week. Hopefully you'll be able to abide by it. That is all."

"Thank you, Phoebe." I reply and leave. I just want to go up to the roof and do a happy dance but I'm not sure if that would violate any work rules. Instead I go to Cash's floor and find him sorting through photos on a computer. "Boo!"

"Gah!" Cash shrieks and turns around weilding a letter opener as his weapon of choice but puts his hand on his chest as he realizes who he's facing.

"Oh, its just you." Cash breathes. "How'd the meeting go?"

I can't help the smile on my face. "Could you possibly pick me up to go to work tommorow?"

24 hours and a dozen boxes later Cash and I finnally speed out of my apartment parking lot. I have chosen a variety of pieces to keep a general horizon and option for Phoebe to choose from since she didn't tell me exactly what she was looking for. Not gonna lie, I felt terrified at the thought of Phoebe approving my clothes. What if she thought they weren't good enough? What if she thanks me for wasting her time? What if-

God I was making this so much worse than it had to be. She was literally going to look at some pieces for the love of Pete. This was the first chance I've received to do something I actually wanted to pursue, so I can't blow this. I just hope to have her aquire one piece. If so, I'll treat myself to a bottle of mango champagne.

Before long we arrive at ELECTRIC DREAM headquarters and begin loading boxes to take to the 12th floor where all clothes were stored. We place each one of them in a single room so Phoebe can take her sweet time without any other distractions. After thanking Cash I leave to my floor but my heart stays on the 12th one. Not even my stress ball is easing my nerves so I finnally decide to simply kill time by doing my job and pushing it to the back of my mind.

After lunch I go to where my designs have been sitting the last few hours and start grouping them by cataglory: shirts, jackets, shorts, skirts, etc. I am doing the final touches when Phoebe strolls into the room. I stand in the corner and hold whatever pieces she deems good enough for her expectations. It is an agonizing process seeing that she looks at every last detail on every piece. In the end she picked out

*black and white pixilated shorts that would look good with a black tank top
*A bomber jacket with black and white stripes with mini cherry blossoms
*A jean jacket with random patches on it
*A scarf with skulls on it
*A jean skirt the shade of raspberries that would look good with a purple top

Phoebe scribbles something down on paper. "Take these to Cash, he'll know where to put everything." With that she leaves and I do a happy dance without dropping the clothes. After packing my forgotten designs back into boxes I go to Cash who gives me a hug on the spot.

The whole week leading up to the photoshoot I'm the Energizer Bunny on crack, too giddy to contain myself. I've called everyone I know and Forbes replied with the quote "I'd rather die of passion than of boredom" which I'd say is a good way to live. When I bounce onto the floor that Friday morning nothing can dim my mood.

Until I see the sun on the whiteboard.

Who knew a sun could be so gloomy?

I decide to avoid confrontation. Maybe these models don't know who designed these clothes but after Yolanda storms out of the dressing room with a pissed off expression on her face and a look directed at me I know my answer. Moments later Carina steps out in the cherry blossom bomber jacket and gives me a dirty look. I dig my newly-painted nails into my palms and force myself to remain cool. Thankfully Carina is the only one here so the other photographer can do her pictures quickly and move on to the next model in the skull scarf and red biker shorts. When Carina is done she storms off set but grabs my arm, her acrylics digging into my forearm.

"I need you to know that these are the worst clothes in the history of clothes." Carina spits at me as she tears the bomber jacket off revealing a tight shirt and an impressive amount of cleavage. "The only reason I'm even wearing this is for my pay check."

"People do a lot of things for money." I interupt but it doesn't stop Carina, she's on a roll.

"Even if these clothes make mediocre success it won't last long and you'll be as popular as you were in high school. No one can ever love you with those clothes. I'm surprised you even got hired, Yolanda needs her contact perscription checked asap. And-"

"And what?" I explode at last. "I get it! I'm hideous, my clothes are from the thrift shop, and I made all my designs with a sewing machine. So what if you don't like it? I never asked for your fucking opinion! If you don't like something it doesn't mean you have to make the other person feel like complete shit! I apologise of I ever did anything to offend you but I don't understand why you continue to torment me all these years. High school was your chance to do so and bless your delusional heart for saying you have to bash me to make yourself feel better. We don't have to be friends, we don't even have to speak to each other! But I will not be treated like this."

With that I storm out of the dressing room leaving a dumbfounded Carina behind.
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Go Lisalotte! I always knew she had it in her. Buh bye Carin-ass.

On the side note I apologize for any grammar issues. Wattpad is always in a funk around my cabin so I'm writing this in a notepad app on my phone and will copy and paste later. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the other chapters I've been posting, I feel like they weren't my best work. Until next time,

Xx,
Tay 🌺

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