Thomas

To be a designer in the fashion industry. The most prestigious boutique is in Paris. Luxurious gatherings at your colleagues' apartments. Where the air is filled with the scent of expensive alcohol, cigarettes, and new fabric. The apartment was two stories. In the middle, there was an opening from which all the guests could be seen. Standing on the second floor, holding a glass of wine, your gaze was fixed only on him. Thomas was your rival, always one step ahead of everyone else. You were curious to learn his secret, but the feud, subtly flirted with, had long been between the two of you. Your outfits sparkled in glossy magazines last week, especially last year's fall collection. This news made Thomas seethe with envy and admiration. The girl who was clinging to him. Your hand seemed to loosen, and the wine from the glass spilled onto her. Some people turned around, but this girl wasn't as famous as the others. She ran to the restroom, and Thomas's gaze rose to you. That sly glint in his eyes spoke volumes. You stood leaning on the railing, casually holding your glass. At that very moment, Thomas came up the stairs toward you. His hands were in his pockets, and he walked with a confident gait, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Is this jealousy or rivalry? I didn't expect this from you."