Date: 14/04/2018 — Day: Saturday — Time: 07:23 AM
The streets of Paris in the morning pulse with life… the chirping of birds blending with the footsteps of people, and the sky gleams a soft light blue with the gentle sun illuminating the beautiful Parisian neighborhoods.
The camera zooms in on an elegant house, its classic white façade adorned with small balconies covered in red flowers.
Inside a teenager's room, full of youthful energy and a love for games and sports:
Shelves stacked with video game CDs, neatly arranged.
On the desk, a gaming setup with its screen glowing against a dark background.
Three large posters on the wall: a dark-skinned American singer in hip-hop clothes, a muscular boxer raising his fist, and a smiling football player holding a trophy.
But what draws the eye more is the other side of the room:
Dozens of posters of Bella Leclair.
Some elegant: Bella in a long black dress, hand on her hip like a queen.
Some playful: Bella laughing on the floor in a short white dress.
Two enormous posters dominate the wall:
– One of Bella walking on a fashion runway in a gray suit, head held high, hair flowing, eyes looking forward confidently.
– The other a close-up portrait of her smiling lightly, her wide eyes seemingly gazing directly at the viewer.
Next to the bed, various books and magazines: sports, social media, and fashion… making the room a mix of teenage interests and hidden dreams.
On the bed, Lucian lies on his back, his light blonde hair slightly tousled. His features look tired, yet a small smile adorns his lips as if recalling something beautiful even in sleep.
The window above the bed is open, and the morning air gently stirs the curtains.
The alarm rings suddenly.
Beep… Beep… Beep!
Slowly, he reaches out and stops it.
He opens his eyes halfway, exhaustion on his face, yet he insists on forcing a smile. He stares at the ceiling for long seconds… sighs, his smile still there, but it seems closer to the smile of someone hiding a weight inside, someone used to forcing themselves to get up no matter the fatigue.
His sapphire-blue eyes glint in the morning light, a mix of weariness and determination in his smile, as if he is forcing himself to "move" even though he needs rest. His face shows fatigue, yet the small smile persists, as if convincing himself to keep going. He mutters softly:
"The awaited day… has come."
He slowly lifts himself from the bed, rests his hands for a moment before sitting upright. He looks out the open window, where the cold air mingles with the soft morning rays. From afar, Paris awakens quietly; a few cars, a woman walking her dog, and children on their way to school.
Lucian watches the scene for a few minutes, as if drawing a brief moment of comfort, then sighs and straightens up. He stretches to shake off the sleepiness and runs his hand through his messy blonde hair.
He leaves his room slowly, heading toward the bathroom down the hall. He opens the door quietly and steps in to wash his face. Standing in front of the mirror, hands on the sink, he studies his reflection. Fatigue is evident, but a small spark of excitement still lingers in his eyes, as if this day means more than just an ordinary morning.
---
Lucian stands at the sink, lazily brushing his teeth, while wearing that cloth headband usually used by girls to keep their hair back while putting on makeup. The scene looks ridiculous on him, yet he tolerates it reluctantly. His reflection in the mirror seems a little funny, raising his eyebrows in despair as if asking himself: how did I end up like this?
At that moment, a familiar voice calls from behind:
"I want you to be the handsomest at the party, or I'll feel ashamed!"
Lucian slowly turns, brush still in his mouth, to see his sister. Sophie stands at the door, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her sapphire-blue eyes glinting with familiar childish mischief, still in her yellow pajamas.
Lucian sighs in annoyance, pointing to the headband:
"Sophie… I've told you a thousand times, I don't want to wear this ridiculous thing! I'm in a hurry, I don't have time for this."
Sophie giggles lightly, leaning on the doorframe with her arms folded:
"Relax, drama king… you're not late yet, you've got plenty of time. And who cares about your handsomeness more than me?"
Lucian rolls his eyes and continues brushing, his voice muffled by the toothpaste:
"Ah… enough… I beg you. Leave my hair alone, Sophie."
She approaches, smiling mischievously, and adjusts the headband slightly:
"No, you look great with it! If I left you alone, you'd walk out like a half-asleep zombie."
He pulls back quickly, giving her a half-nervous smile:
"Sophie… stop acting like my nanny. I'm fine, believe me."
She raises an eyebrow, studying his face in the mirror, then says with mock seriousness:
"Oh really? Fine? Your face says otherwise. The dark circles are bigger than your future."
Lucian nearly chokes on laughter, muttering after rinsing his mouth:
"Oh my… you're a walking disaster."
Sophie laughs loudly this time, gently nudging his shoulder:
"And you still love me despite everything."
Lucian finally smiles, wiping his face with a small towel:
"Unfortunately… you're right."
Lucian leaves the bathroom after washing his face and removing the annoying headband, ruffling his blonde hair with visible frustration. Sophie walks behind him like a heavy shadow, her face still wearing a teasing smile.
He says as he heads toward his room:
"You know? If you weren't my sister, you'd be the worst nightmare of my life."
Sophie giggles, walking lightly behind him:
"On the contrary… I'm the miracle that fixes your life. Just imagine how you'd look without my advice!"
Lucian burst into his room like a child, then tossed his towel onto the chair and began rummaging through his closet for a suitable shirt.
"Your advice?! You just like wasting my time. I don't need a manager breathing down my neck."
Sophie sat on the edge of his bed, resting her chin on her hand in a mock-serious pose:
"But Lucian, if I let you have free rein, you'd go to the party in a sports shirt and ripped jeans. Right?"
He turned his head toward her, holding up a sleek white shirt, and said sarcastically:
"And is that a crime? At least I'd be comfortable."
Sophie whistled exaggeratedly in admiration:
"Oh… white! Truly elegant. Have you finally decided to impress Bella Leclair yourself?"
Lucian froze for a moment, then cleared his throat and looked away:
"Bella? What does she have to do with this? Stop imagining stories."
Sophie raised an eyebrow slyly, pointing to the wall plastered with Bella posters:
"Stories? You're the one who put up half her pictures on the wall. Don't blame me for reading reality."
Lucian exhaled deeply, tossed the shirt onto the bed, ignoring her comment, and said:
"Sophie… please. Go now, I want to change my clothes."
She smiled widely, then stood up and walked toward the door:
"Alright, alright… I'll leave you, but don't be late. And remember, the most handsome one is always the one who smiles. Try it, even once!"
Lucian closed the door behind her slowly, exhaling with a half-smile, then turned to the clothes scattered on the bed.
"Smile? Easier said than done."
---
Lucian emerged from his room with a smile, a faint glow giving his face an unusual radiance. He looked unusually sharp: a simple white shirt under a pale pink sleeveless wool sweater, tight black pants, and polished black sneakers. A smartwatch adorned his wrist, three coordinated gray rings on his fingers, and a broad silver chain hung from his neck.
Sophie, standing in the hallway, whistled loudly and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise:
"Wow! Who's this handsome prince? Where did you hide my real brother?"
Lucian chuckled lightly, ignoring her, and continued toward another room at the end of the hall. His smile remained calm, as if growing steadier with every step.
He entered the room, revealing its features: a medium-sized space with light-colored walls, tables scattered with rolls of fabric and sewing tools, and sketches pinned to the walls showing designs in progress. The room resembled a small fashion workshop, a mix of chaos and creativity.
Lucian stopped in front of a wooden rack holding two prominent designs: one feminine, the other masculine.
The women's dress looked otherworldly, inspired by a mythical nymph, with green and olive shades (#68875A and #304F27) accented by gold touches (#E3B43C and #F8C42E). The chosen fabrics — velvet, satin, and chiffon — gave the dress a life of its own, while small crystals along the edges sparkled like stars on water.
The men's design carried the same spirit: same colors but with a sharp, simple cut reflecting contemporary masculine elegance. Limited crystal details added a refined dimension without sacrificing its strength.
Lucian gently lowered both designs, treating them like treasures, then placed them carefully into two black leather bags. He let out a long sigh, a mix of exhaustion and determination.
Sophie tilted her head lightly and asked:
"Want some help carrying them? They look heavy."
He replied, fastening the bags securely:
"No need, I can manage on my own."
Ignoring her attempts again, he lifted both bags. His steps were measured as he descended the stairs, Sophie trailing behind, chattering non-stop, commenting on the colors of the designs, laughing at his serious expressions, completely ignoring the one thing his silent face revealed: today was no ordinary day.
As Lucian and Sophie descended, they heard their mother calling from the kitchen:
"Lucian! Sophie! Come, breakfast is ready!"
They turned quickly to see their parents in the kitchen. Mrs. Chloe, with her golden-brown hair and clear sapphire-blue eyes, laughed while helping her husband. Mr. Alexander, with light blonde hair and hazel eyes, stood by the table arranging dishes as if he were a head chef.
He said playfully, gesturing to the table:
"Come on, kids, don't make me eat all this alone."
Lucian set the bags by the wall and walked with Sophie to the table. The four of them sat together; the kitchen smelled warmly of toasted bread and fresh coffee.
Mrs. Chloe smiled, pouring orange juice for her son:
"How are you, honey? Ready for the big day?"
Alexander raised his eyebrows, tapping the table lightly:
"The awaited day! We're sure you'll impress everyone, champ. Don't worry, we'll watch it live on TV."
Lucian smiled but seemed a little nervous, shrugging:
"…I just hope I don't disappoint you."
His mother patted his shoulder gently:
"Even if you fail, we'll still be proud of you. The important thing is that you try."
Then, with a mischievous smile, she added:
"But do you need help? I could carry your bags… or drive you to the university."
Lucian quickly raised his hand, as if to stop an offer he didn't want:
"No, no, Mom. Today's your day off, relax. My friends are coming to help anyway."
Chloe smiled, convinced, while Alexander teased as he cut a piece of bread:
"Look at him, Chloe, he's a man who can rely on himself!"
The wife laughed, shaking her head:
"Yes, but I still see the child in him who cried whenever he lost his toy."
Lucian blushed and groaned:
"Mom, don't embarrass me in front of Sophie!"
But Sophie seized the opportunity and laughed loudly:
"Ha ha ha, I knew you were still her spoiled little boy."
Lucian shot her a sharp look, then turned to ask seriously:
"By the way… you still haven't gotten ready for school. Not planning to go to high school or what?"
She responded coolly, chewing a piece of bread:
"No. I decided to take the day off. I want to watch your show in peace."
Lucian's mouth dropped open in shock, almost dropping the spoon from his hand:
"What?! And Mom and Dad are okay with this? You're always strict about school! How did you suddenly become so lenient?"
His father raised his hands as if justifying himself:
"Today is an exception, son. You have a big day ahead, and your sister has the right to support you and share this moment."
His mother smiled as she added more food to Sophie's plate:
"Exactly. Don't worry, she won't miss much. One missed test can be made up, but your day today doesn't come around twice."
Lucian rested his chin in his hand, a mixture of resignation and disbelief on his face:
"So… fate has betrayed me… my parents, who never let me skip a single day, are instantly okay with a silly excuse from Sophie?"
Sophie burst out laughing, looking at him defiantly:
"Hehe, that's the perk of being the spoiled little sister."
Lucian was annoyed enough to lightly tap her on the head. Sophie squealed in mock pain, holding her head:
"Ow! That hurts, you idiot!"
Their parents laughed at the scene, while Lucian sat there, frowning, feeling like everyone was conspiring against him.
•••
Elsewhere, half an hour later, the majestic facade of Université de Crystal rose into view—a historic building with intricate stone engravings and a grand golden-lettered sign above the main gate. The atmosphere was formal, and the place's prestige was evident from the first glance.
In the parking lot, a sleek red car stopped. All four doors opened simultaneously, and five young men stepped out in unison, like a band taking the stage together.
Lucian was among them, pulling a bag from the trunk, while his close friend Louis—with thick orange hair and green eyes—helped carry the second bag. Walking alongside them were the three others:
Gaspar, with shiny brown hair and honey-colored eyes, always smiling as if hiding a joke.
Étienne, with short black hair and dark eyes, the calmest of the group.
Julian, with light brown hair and sky-blue eyes, is dramatic, speaking with a theatrical tone.
As they made their way to the university building, their usual playful chatter began.
Julian stretched his arms and said:
"Seriously, this place is intimidating… looks more like a haunted mansion than a university."
Gaspar laughed, shaking his head:
"Haunted? This is a university… not a vampire house. Don't worry, no one will bite you."
Étienne intervened calmly, nudging a stone with his foot:
"He's not afraid of the building… he's afraid of the studies inside it."
Everyone burst out laughing, while Julian raised his eyebrows in protest:
"So I'm afraid of books, not walls? Thanks, Dr. Psychologist!"
Louis patted Lucian on the shoulder:
"Why so quiet? Today's your big day, and everyone came to watch. Excited or nervous?"
Lucian smiled faintly, though his expression betrayed him:
"Excited… but if I said I wasn't nervous, I'd be lying."
Gaspar clapped his hands enthusiastically:
"Don't worry, my friend! If you mess up the show, we'll all dance in your place to cover for you."
Lucian looked at him in surprise:
"Dance? Is this a fashion show or a circus, Gaspar?"
The others laughed loudly. Even Louis bent over laughing:
"I can just imagine you in a suit with your face painted like a clown… haha, national disaster."
Julian adjusted his jacket, saying:
"No, no… if a substitute is needed, I'm the perfect candidate. My theatrical expressions are ready."
Étienne muttered dryly, looking away:
"If you go on stage, people will run instead of applauding you."
Everyone laughed loudly, and even Lucian couldn't hold back a chuckle.
Louis raised the bag:
"We're just joking… but seriously, everyone's behind you, and you can do this."
This time, Lucian smiled genuinely:
"I know… having you all by my side is enough."
Suddenly, Gaspar exclaimed:
"Then get ready, guys… if he succeeds today, we're demanding a huge feast at Lucian's expense."
Julian responded quickly:
"I want six pizzas, three bottles of cola, and ice cream."
Louis shook his head mockingly:
"Are you here for a fashion show or a restaurant opening?"
They all burst into laughter, their voices cutting through the gravity of the surroundings, as their steps carried them toward the grand gate. Despite the university's formal air, their mood was playful, natural, and loud—like any group of teenagers enjoying the moment.
---
Once they passed through the gate, the opulent halls of Université de Crystal opened before them—high walls of ancient gray stone and shiny floors reflecting the footsteps of students coming and going. The atmosphere was unlike any ordinary day; the place buzzed with activity, whispers, and laughter, everyone clearly aware of the importance of today.
Dozens of students moved through the hallways, some carrying wooden boxes full of fabric, others holding scraps of embroidery and golden threads. Conversations were scattered in every corner:
"Olive with gold? That's not easy."
"I'm sure the judges won't go easy, especially with the live show."
"If only I get picked… my life will change."
Large banners adorned the walls, bearing the Velora brand logo in elegant gold letters, beneath a huge image of Bella Leclair with sharp eyes and a smile blending warmth with authority. Another sign read:
"Search for Talent of the Year – Season Four."
Students moved quickly; some looked exhausted from late-night sewing and finishing details, while others were still attaching beads or adjusting fabric just minutes before the show began.
Lively whispers filled the air:
"Can you imagine? Bella herself is sitting inside, watching every piece with her own eyes."
"I just hope I can reach the judging stage… even if I don't win."
"Live broadcast… people will see us from everywhere."
The scene resembled the moments before a final sports match, but instead of balls and goals, the arena was filled with dresses, fabrics, and golden glimmers reflecting under the lights.
In a designated corner, the runway stage was set with bright lights and TV cameras, ready for live broadcast. Directors and technicians moved around with headsets, checking everything, while the countdown for the live show ticked on.
The most tension-inducing element, however, was the judges' panel: three grand seats awaited their occupants, and every student knew exactly who would sit there—official Velora representatives and the show's star, the brand owner herself: Bella Leclair.
Her presence alone could make any student tremble. Bella wasn't just a designer; she was an icon. For three years, she had discovered true talents from universities, who had now become part of the fashion industry. And here she was, returning for the fourth time, with all eyes on her… and every move she chose to make.
Amid all this, excitement soared, voices rose, and awe mingled with hope. The students knew that today wasn't just a university challenge… Today could be the start of an entirely new life.
---
The camera wandered through the halls of Université de Crystal, then stopped at a woman with short blonde hair that shimmered under the lights. She smiled confidently at the camera and began speaking with a lively voice:
"Welcome, viewers, to our live broadcast from the heart of the fashion department at Université de Crystal. Imagine this: today marks a decisive moment for these students… for them, this isn't just a fashion show. No, no… it's like a lioness appearing for the first time in front of an entire herd of deer!"
She laughed briefly, gesturing with her hand as if sketching the scene in the air:
"Yes, we are now in the pre-predation phase, where the deer—I mean, the students—are sweating, their hearts pounding like war drums… yet they're excited to know: who will the great herd choose… or rather, Bella Leclair?"
The camera followed her as she walked with wide steps, looking around as if on a safari:
"Here, in this small backstage room, young talents gather. Each one has spent a full week sewing, embroidering, and battling fabric as if it were a mortal enemy. And now… the crucial moment is approaching."
She lightly opened the door with a theatrical flourish and gestured for the camera to enter. The room was filled with students—some adjusting the hem of a dress, some gently blowing on stuck crystals, others sitting in a corner contemplating their lives as if the end were near.
The professor smiled and said loudly:
"Ah, look at them! They're like a flock of colorful tropical birds, each trying to prove they're the most beautiful and rare. Some are so nervous, I fear they might actually fly out the window!"
She laughed again, walking between the tables, then stopped at a tall young man with light blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was opening his bag, taking out one elegant suit.
"Here we have… Mr. Lucian. Notice his calm exterior, yet inside he's like a volcano about to erupt. He's the type who doesn't acknowledge stress… until he bites his nails at the last moment."
The camera focused on Lucian's face as he tried to muster a polite smile, though his eyes gave him away: half despair, half determination.
The professor smiled again at the camera:
"Let's give them a moment to prepare… the big show is near, and the three predators—I mean, the judges—are about to enter."
She tried to ease the tension, laughing with a frowning student and patting the shoulder of a girl who was about to break down while sewing the final button on her dress. The atmosphere was so tense that some students laughed nervously just from stress.
Suddenly… the door opened slightly, and a head appeared. Black hair tied in a ponytail, with small pink strands falling across the forehead, and bright pink sunglasses covering half her face.
She spoke softly, with a hint of playful mischief:
"Hmm… did I disturb you?"
The room fell silent as if someone had pressed a pause button. Even the sewing machines stopped. The girl in the corner trying to hold herself together covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes filling with tears:
"Oh… it's… Bella Leclair."
Bella entered with confident steps, standing tall as if on a runway even while walking through a university room. She wore a long-sleeved black shirt, topped with a bright pink wool sweater wrapped around her neck. Her bright pink pants were tight at the waist and flared slightly at the bottom, flowing with her movements, and her mid-heel pink shoes tapped the floor in a steady rhythm. Her pink hoop earrings swayed with each step, and the shiny ring on her left hand—her wedding ring—added an unintentional touch of authority. Her nails were painted in pink and black with a white decoration for a sunflower.
She lightly removed her sunglasses and placed them on her tied-up hair, smiling broadly and opening her arms:
"Oh my… you're amazing! This feels more like an operating room than a backstage area. I love it!"
The professor laughed and said to the camera:
"There she is, the real lioness. Now you can see her effect: look at these students, each of them has turned to stone."
One male student whispered, biting his lip:
"Impossible… she's even more beautiful than the pictures."
Another female student hurriedly tried to hide her tears, but Bella noticed, approached, and bent slightly to meet her gaze:
"Hey… don't cry. Your tears are too precious to waste here. Save them for graduation night, trust me, you'll need them more then."
Everyone burst into nervous laughter. The atmosphere lightened as Bella moved between the tables, touching fabrics, giving small comments, and acting as if she knew each student personally.
After passing through the tables, she adjusted a piece of fabric here, pinned one there, even took a leftover satin ribbon and wrapped it around her wrist as an impromptu accessory, smiling widely:
"Ha! Even your scraps have style."
The students laughed nervously, and the professor nodded, laughing:
"I told you, she knows how to turn anything into a show."
Bella stopped in the middle of the room, placed her hands on her hips, and looked at everyone with sudden seriousness:
"Listen… I know you're nervous, I know you're thinking: (Will I fail? Will I embarrass myself?). But the simple truth is: each of you is here because you have something different. That's exactly what I'm looking for. It doesn't matter if the thread is a little off or if the crystals are slightly crooked… What matters is putting your heart into the design. The rest? Just details."
One student dared to ask:
"But… the judging will be harsh, won't it?"
Bella smiled sideways, lifting her pink sunglasses from her head and putting them back over her eyes:
"Dear… I'm not harsh. I'm just real. And fashion doesn't wait for fear."
The room went quiet for a moment. The students exchanged looks, a mix of excitement and fear.
Then suddenly, Bella shouted theatrically:
"Now… young designers! Impress me!"
She raised her arms high as if on an opera stage, then bowed lightly as if finishing her own show, turned on her pink-heeled foot, and waved:
"Our meeting is on the runway. Don't make me regret coming here myself today."
She stepped out, leaving behind a mix of laughter, whispers, and heavy breaths. One student whispered softly:
"Oh God… how can we compete with this presence?"
The professor laughed and patted her shoulder:
"With design, my dear, not presence."
---
In the large garden of Université de Crystal, the atmosphere was completely different.
The grassy ground had been covered with a long wooden walkway, designed as a runway, surrounded by blooming white and purple flowers that reflected the colors of spring. The seats were arranged in a semicircle around the stage, occupied by students, professors, and some guests from outside the university. On either side stood giant cameras, and in front of them the live broadcast crew adjusted lenses and microphones, everything ready to be streamed to the world.
The audience spoke excitedly:
"This is the fourth season, right?"
"Yes, and the previous three discovered real talents!"
"But having Bella herself… that's what really raises the event's prestige."
At the front, the three judges sat behind a long table covered with elegant black cloth bearing the Velora logo.
They were three prominent fashion designers: a calm woman in her late twenties with short black hair and a red streak, a man in his thirties with a small mustache and light orange hair, and an older man in his late fifties with a calm, stern presence, yellow-and-white hair, a single round eyeglass, all dressed in elegant, luxurious outfits, each with a tablet to take notes.
As everyone waited, the opening music began. Dreamy music with soft string touches evoking the sea, setting the mood for a "mermaid" theme.
The lights focused on the runway, and the participating students appeared from behind the temporary curtain, faces tense but eyes ablaze.
Then… Bella appeared.
She stepped steadily onto the side of the runway, not as a model, but as the "queen of the event." Everyone applauded warmly, some students even standing in respect. She took her seat beside the judges in a special chair, crossed her legs, adjusted her pink glasses slowly, and said into the microphone with her radiant smile:
"Good morning, Université de Crystal!
Today… we write the fourth chapter of our journey. Three years have passed, three talents have become global designers. The question: who among you will be the fourth?"
The audience applauded enthusiastically, while the students behind the curtain were nearly collapsing with tension.
Bella continued with her theatrical flair:
"Remember… we're not just here to see beautiful dresses or elegant suits. We're here to see your passion, to see if you possess something that cannot be copied. And now… let's bring the sea creatures ashore."
She gestured with her hand, and the first student began presenting her dress, while another student wore it to show it on the stage. The shiny dress caught every flash of light…
The back curtain lifted lightly, and the student appeared on the runway. She wore a long evening gown, a mix of olive green and gold. The fabric flowed over her body like water, made of satin that shimmered under the lights, while the train was light chiffon that moved with every step, like a mermaid's fin. The shoulders were adorned with tiny crystals reflecting light like sea bubbles.
The audience applauded warmly, and cameras captured the scene from every angle.
The student was nervous, but her smile tried to hide it. She walked steadily, paused mid-stage, lightly spun, then continued to the end and walked back.
The judges studied her carefully.
Henry, sitting at the edge, slowly jotted notes on his tablet without raising his eyes. His voice was monotone:
"Execution is clean… but the train is longer than necessary, might impede movement."
Gerard, on the other hand, slapped his hand on the table with excitement, almost standing:
"Wow! The shoulders are stunning, look like they came straight from the sea! I love this sparkle, I love this energy! If I were a fish… I'd marry this dress."
The audience laughed at his comment, and even some students behind the curtain relaxed a bit.
Elodie pushed her hair back coldly, raised an eyebrow, and said:
"Beautiful… but not something we haven't seen before. Predictable design. At least you chose the fabric well."
She then glanced at Bella with a sly sideways smile, as if to say: nothing impressive yet.
Bella, resting her chin on her hand, smiled brightly, raised the microphone, and spoke in her dramatic tone as usual:
"Do you know what I liked? I saw the sea in seconds. True, not the kind of sea that would drown you… but the kind that makes you dream. And that, in itself, is a beautiful beginning."
The audience applauded again, and both students hugged, nearly crying in shyness and emotion.
Another student entered the runway, carrying more confidence than her predecessor. Her dress was short in the front, long in the back, resembling waves breaking on the shore. The colors graduated between dark olive green and shiny gold, with small crystal touches at the waist. Her steps were measured, her gaze fixed on the judges.
The audience whispered among themselves; some admired her boldness, others found the cut unusual.
Henry adjusted his glasses slightly:
"Overly bold… but smart. The dress isn't suited for a classic evening, but it leaves a strong impression."
Gerard clapped loudly:
"This is energy! I love the confidence, I love how the dress moves like it's dancing with her."
Elodie shrugged indifferently:
"Hmm… not convinced. But better than the previous one."
Bella tilted her head slightly, then smiled:
"This isn't an ordinary evening gown… it's a short story told through steps. Is it perfect? No. But it made me want to see it again, and that's a point in your favor."
The student curtsied lightly and left with steady steps, as the audience applauded.
In the background, Lucian stood with his hand on his bag handle, trying to calm himself. He looked at the ground, then lifted his eyes to the small screen broadcasting the show from backstage.
"My heart is racing… every design passing makes me think: will I be enough? Will they notice me, or will I be just another one of the dozens who tried and failed?
I've worked on this design for weeks. Every detail I thought through. Louis says I overdo it… but this isn't just a show. This is my chance. Bella Leclair will see me. She herself… whose photos were on my bedroom wall. If she sees me… if she really sees me… everything could change."
He smiled lightly, but it was a tense smile.
"My parents are watching from home… Sophie skipped school for me… if I fail, I'll disappoint everyone. No, no room for retreat. I must be the best version of myself."
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them:
"My turn is coming… this is my moment."
After six consecutive presentations, the atmosphere was filled with a mix of applause, whispers, and scattered audience comments. Some designs impressed the judges, while others barely earned a neutral nod.
At the front of the table, Gerard leaned forward slightly, speaking softly, trying to hide his excitement:
"I think we already have some gems here."
Elodie let out a short, mocking laugh:
"Gems? No, the closest we've gotten is colored glass sparkle."
Henry remained calm as usual, jotting down brief notes on his tablet:
"The level is good, but it's not what we're looking for."
Bella shifted lightly, resting her chin on her hand, speaking in a theatrical tone:
"The problem isn't with the designs… The problem is I haven't found the right student yet. The one with the courage to break the line… and write something unforgettable."
Everyone turned to look at her, but the discussion didn't continue because the lighting changed, and the internal announcer declared:
"And now… let's move on to the next design presentation!"
The curtain opened to reveal a student from the acting department wearing the first design from Lucian's collection.
The design was an olive-green long jacket with fine silver lines that reflected the light with every step, crystals at the bottom of the sleeves, paired with relatively slim, elegant golden pants. The student's walk along the runway was calculated, exuding confidence as if stepping out of a modern painting.
Immediately after, another student appeared to present the second design: a long dress, cut short in the front with a medium-length train, in olive green with golden accents on the chest and the end of the train, wrapping the body with soft pink streaks like a painter's brush had casually touched the fabric, featuring a high collar for a classic touch, and crystal embellishments on the chest shaped like flames.
The audience began whispering: the colors were attractive, the cuts precise, a mix of formal and artistic.
Backstage, Lucian stood watching, tense-eyed but internally a mix of pride and fear:
"They're walking in my clothes… this is my moment, my work in front of Bella and the world. Will they notice me? Will they see that I'm different?"
As the students advanced confidently down the runway, he took a deep breath and clenched his fist lightly:
"They're not just models… They're my voice, translating my ideas. God… just one look from Bella will be enough."
As the student and the girl passed the runway, the light reflected off the materials in a way that drew more attention than many expected. The audience began applauding, but the most important eyes were those of the four judges.
Elodie tilted her head slightly, lifted her pen, and wrote:
"Strange… the cuts are precise, but he didn't attempt anything over the top."
She said it coldly, but a small smile appeared at the corner of her lips before disappearing.
Gerard, as usual, slammed his hand on the table, his eyes sparkling:
"Ohhh! This student knows how to play it! I adore the jacket… it has power, it has presence. I like it!"
He raised his arms slightly, as if showing the jacket himself.
Henry adjusted his glasses, watching carefully, then commented dryly:
"Clean. Neat. No clutter. The work of someone who knows the value of simplicity… though his boldness is slightly lacking."
But Bella… was different. Her pink glasses reflected the light, her eyes following the models as if catching every stitch, every detail. She raised her hand silently, halting the applause before the presentation ended.
"Hmph…" she whispered, then gave a faint, subtle smile.
She said nothing more. She only looked at Elodie, then Henry, before resting her chin on her hand as if hiding a secret.
Lucian's presentation ended amid a mixture of applause and murmurs, and the seventh presentation began immediately after. Yet his mind remained occupied, his heart racing as he tried to decipher Bella's gaze… had she liked it? Did she find what she was looking for in him, or was he still far from it?
The remaining presentations passed quickly, each student striving to leave a mark, each design competing for attention.
Finally, it was time for the conclusion. In the rear area of the garden, all the student designers were gathered. Some laughed, some whispered nervously, others nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
The atmosphere was charged, full of tension and curiosity. Everyone waited for the moment of announcement: who caught the judges' attention? Who had managed to capture Bella Leclair's interest this time?
---
All the students stood in a long line in front of the four judges, the outdoor hall holding its breath with every tense exhale. They exchanged looks full of anticipation, shy smiles, some biting their lips from anxiety. Among them, Lucian stood straight, yet inside he was battling his racing heartbeat.
In another home, miles away, Lucian's family gathered around the TV. Mr. Alexander leaned on the sofa with his arms crossed, while Mrs. Chloe placed her hand on her chest with visible emotion. Sophie leaned forward, clutching a small pillow with childlike excitement, whispering as if her brother could hear:
"Don't mess it up, Lucian…"
The camera returned to the garden, where Bella stood from her chair. She tilted her head slightly, adjusted her pink glasses, and spoke clearly, her voice cutting through the students' silence:
"Before we decide anything… I want to ask you a simple question: why? Why did you design these clothes? What did you feel when you drew the first lines and stitched the last stitch?"
The students began answering one by one. Most stammered, then resorted to flashy but empty words:
"I wanted to impress the judges."
"I was thinking of pleasing your taste, Miss Leclair."
"I wanted to create something worthy of Velora."
Bella shook her head slowly, her lips curling downward in subtle displeasure. She looked bored, as if she had heard these phrases a thousand times before. What she wanted hadn't arrived yet.
Then it was Lucian's turn. He took a deep breath, feeling for a moment that the words were stuck in his chest. He looked at the audience, then at the ground, and finally lifted his eyes to Bella. In a quiet but sincere voice, he said:
"At first… yes, I wanted to impress everyone. I wanted them to notice me, to say that I deserved to be here. But over time, as I designed and stitched, I began asking myself: do I like what I see? Did I impress myself before trying to impress others?"
He paused for a moment, swallowed, then continued:
"I didn't design this piece for a title or applause alone. I designed it because I wanted to see myself stand before it and feel proud… even if no one claps."
Behind her glasses, Bella's eyes widened quietly. Her usual tired, accustomed gaze shifted suddenly, as if hearing for the first time what she had been searching for years. Elodie, in her usual coldness, noticed the spark and murmured to herself: "There it is…"
Lucian concluded his words with a sentence that made the moment explode into silence:
"If I didn't impress myself first… I don't deserve to impress anyone else."
From Bella's side, she remained completely silent, yet couldn't hide the glimmer that passed through her eyes. The camera lens moved closer, capturing a faint reflection in her pupils. A white sparkle appeared suddenly, like a shooting star, before the scene was swallowed by darkness… followed by a soft sound, like a crystalline shimmer fading away: "Ting."
•••
Fast-forwarding time
With the golden-hour light breaking across the windows of the grand restaurant, laughter and soft background music filled the air. Tables were packed with students and guests who had come to celebrate, but the loudest laughter came from a nearby corner where Lucian and his four friends were seated.
"To Lucian!" Louis shouted, raising his glass, and the others clinked theirs together.
They all burst into loud laughter, even Julian, who usually pretended to be serious, couldn't hide his smile.
Gaspar leaned forward, waving his hand:
"Man, I can't believe you did it! In front of Bella Leclair herself!"
Étienne added with a sly grin:
"Everyone saw how her eyes widened at you… swear to God, if she looked at me like that, I would've collapsed on the spot."
They all laughed while Lucian smiled shyly, twirling his glass between his fingers.
"Believe me… I didn't even believe it myself. I thought I'd faint from the nerves, but… everything turned out fine."
Louis, the most enthusiastic of them all, patted his shoulder hard, as usual:
"No, man, it wasn't just fine, it was legendary! You didn't just win… you became everyone's topic today!"
They raised their glasses again, clinking them amid the resonating sounds of glass and repeated laughter. The restaurant buzzed with joy, but in that corner, their celebration carried a different flavor. For them, this wasn't just a moment of success… it was the start of something bigger.
Louis leaned close to Lucian, whispering in a semi-serious tone amid the noise:
"Trust me… this is just the first step, champ."
Lucian smiled, looking at each of his friends in turn, then raised his glass quietly:
"To the beginning."
•••
Night had fallen over Paris, the city sparkling with its lively lights. But unlike the noise outside, the François household was quiet and cozy. Lucian quietly opened the door, still feeling the warmth from his friends' laughter and the clinking glasses from earlier.
He slipped off his sneakers and set them aside, then carried his two bags that hadn't been opened since the show. Suddenly, he felt a strange weight, a mix of exhaustion and euphoria. He walked slowly through the dim hallway until he reached his room.
Opening the door, he saw the posters on his walls glinting under the moonlight streaming through the window. Bella's images were among the most prominent, seeming to look directly at him. He smiled unconsciously, then sighed as he flopped onto his bed.
He stared at the ceiling for a long moment before murmuring softly:
"I did it…"
But his smile quickly shifted into a pensive expression. Something inside him told him that what happened today was only the beginning of a story much bigger than he imagined.
•••
Meanwhile
Elsewhere, inside Bella and Amory's apartment, silence dominated as if the night had swallowed all sound. Bella entered quietly, closed the door behind her, and removed her sunglasses to see that the apartment was completely dark. It was clear everyone was asleep, so she exhaled in relief and headed toward the stairs.
But before she could climb, she noticed a shadow moving. At the top of the stairs stood Amory, arms crossed, his expression buried in silent annoyance. He looked as if he had been waiting for her for a long time.
Bella stopped, exhaling wearily:
"Amory… I'm tired. Please stop your jealousy… I can't talk tonight."
But Amory didn't move and his voice remained firm:
"No, Bella. We need to talk. You can't keep running away like this every time."
She rolled her eyes nervously and continued walking toward the stairs, ignoring him. She lifted her hand to brush hair from her face, and suddenly noticed the remnants of paint on her nails: red and blue with gold glitter still visible despite the long hours of the show. She paused for a moment, examining her fingers, and said lazily:
"I'll remove them tomorrow… I'm too tired today."
It was as if she were talking to herself, but her words carried a subtle disregard for the seriousness of the situation. Meanwhile, Amory clenched his fist tighter, his features growing harsher.
To be continued…
I apologize for the delay; I've had some important matters and a few issues to deal with. Anyway, I'll be writing ten chapters for Volume One, and then I'll write two chapters for Volume Two, which can be considered more like a movie. After that, we'll start Volume Three, which may contain several episodes—maybe 12, or fewer, or even more.
Volume One and Volume Three make up the first season, while Volume Two is the movie.
I hope you'll leave your comments on each chapter, and also, if you notice anything different or strange in a chapter, know that it's not a coincidence. There's a hint of something important, but I won't reveal it—you'll have to find it yourselves.
Anyway, follow along, and wish me luck, everyone!