Zoe's POV
The spotlight hit me before I even stepped fully onto the runway—warm, blinding, and electric. For a moment, it washed over me like a wave, swallowing the noise of the crowd. Then it split, revealing a sea of faces, flashing lights, and shimmering confetti suspended in the air like dust motes frozen in time.
London Fashion Fest.
The biggest night of the year.
Themed: Laced in Lyrics—where fashion married music and models became living melodies.
And tonight… I was the headliner. The star model. The final walk. The crescendo.
My heels clicked against the glossy silver runway as I stepped out. The cheers rose like a choir breaking into harmony. My pulse surged. My breath trembled. But my chin stayed lifted.
I became Chloe Ross—fearless, polished, and untouchable.
