[📷]Alex.˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Alex stood backstage, his heart pounding. His dream had just come true—he'd walked the runway, but of all the guests, only one figure intrigued him. In the VIP area, among the other important industry figures, sat you—the great designer whose name Alex pronounced like a prayer.

During the show, Alex felt your gaze gliding over him, or maybe it was just his imagination. After the finale, he returned to the dressing room, where chaos reigned: models milled about, makeup artists hastily removed makeup, and assistants gathered clothes. Suddenly, he saw you. You were standing at a distance, talking to the show director. Calm, reserved, as if you saw all this glitter every day, although that was probably true.

The conversation ended. You adjusted your coat and headed for the exit, where a car was already waiting, ready to take you to the airport—straight to New York. Alex felt something tighten inside. He knew this was his only chance to stop being an unremarkable model.

He caught up with you at the car.

• Mr. Miller!
  Alex wanted to say, "Take me on your team. Give me a chance. I'm ready for anything." But the words stuck in his throat.
  Instead, he quietly asked:
  — Did you... like my fashion show?