BERLIN'S POV:
The bus rolled into the city just as the evening lights began to glow.
After three long years in fashion school, Arica and I were finally back: full of dreams we weren't sure would ever come true.
"Finally," Arica sighed beside me, dragging her suitcase down the aisle. "Goodbye, student life. Hello, reality."
I smiled faintly, even though I was just as nervous. "Reality doesn't sound too bad if VOSS Couture hires us." I muttered.
She gave me a look: one of those skeptical, raised-eyebrow stares she was famous for. "You really think Vicar Voss himself will even glance at our applications? Berlin, that man owns a billion-dollar fashion empire. He doesn't hire nobodies like us." Arica argued.
"He won't need to. My designs will speak for me." I muttered, hugging my portfolio tighter.
"You're too hopeful, you know that?" Arica snorted.
"And you're too negative," I teased back.
We both laughed, but deep down, I knew she wasn't completely wrong. Getting into VOSS Couture was like trying to walk through the gates of heaven: possible only for a chosen few.
Still, it was my dream. Ever since I saw their first fashion show on TV at sixteen, I'd wanted to work there. And now, after graduating top of my class, I had at least a small chance.
We got back to our tiny apartment, really just two rooms and a kitchen that barely fit a stove. Boxes and rolls of fabric were stacked everywhere, and the walls were covered with our sketches.
"Home sweet mess." Arica screamed, dropping her bag on the floor.
I laughed and opened the window to let in some air. "You know, I missed this place."
"You missed this?" She pointed at a cracked mirror and a pile of clothes on the chair.
"I missed the dream," I said softly.
"You and your dreams. Sometimes I wonder how your head hasn't floated off yet." Arica said, giving me a tired smile.
"Because my dreams are heavy enough to keep me grounded." I grinned and flopped onto the couch.
She laughed, then threw a pillow at me. "You're crazy."
We unpacked in silence for a while, the sound of the city drifting through the window. Every few minutes, my eyes darted to my phone. No message or email, nothing from VOSS Couture.
By the fifth time, Arica groaned. "Berlin, stop checking your phone. They'll call when they call or not at all."
"I know, but…
"No buts," she said, tossing me a chocolate bar. "Here. Eat and stop stressing."
"Thanks." I said and took it with a small smile.
"You're welcome," she said, lying back on her bed. "If we don't get in, we'll start our own brand. Two best friends against the world. Sounds cool, right?"
"It does," I said softly, "but I still want to work at VOSS first." I added.
The next morning was quiet. I woke up early, made coffee, and sat by the window sketching. Arica was still asleep, snoring softly, her blonde curls scattered across her pillow.
Outside, the city was just waking up: people rushing to work, honking cars, the smell of fresh bagels drifting in from the bakery downstairs.
I picked up my phone again out of habit and froze.
It was ringing.
An unknown number flashed on the screen.
"Arica," I whispered, shaking her shoulder. "Wake up. Someone's calling."
"If it's a telemarketer, I swear I'll…" she groaned.
"It might be them," I cut in, my voice trembling.
Her eyes opened instantly. "Them? As in…?"
I nodded, barely breathing. "VOSS Couture."
"Answer it!" she said, sitting up straight.
I fumbled for a second before pressing the green button. "H-Hello?" I stammered.
A calm voice came through. "Good morning. Is this Miss Berlin Hooke? She asked.
"Yes, it is." I agreed.
"This is VOSS Couture's Human Resource Department. We've reviewed your application and would like to invite you for an interview tomorrow morning at 10 a.m." The voice informed.
"Oh oh my God! Thank you! Yes, I'll be there." I replied, trying to control my excitement.
"Please bring your portfolio and a sample of your design," the woman added.
"Of course. Thank you so much!" I answered.
The call ended, and for a few seconds, I just sat there staring at my phone, my heart was pounding so fast.
"They called me." I turned and whispered to Arica.
"Wait… just you?" Her eyes widened.
"Yes. They want to interview me tomorrow!" My voice shook.
For a heartbeat, she said nothing. Then, she smiled. "That's amazing, Berlin! You did it!"
"I can't believe it!" I said, throwing my arms around her. " Don't worry, they'll soon call you" I whispered to her.
But even as she hugged me back, I felt her body stiffen slightly. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
I noticed she wasn't so excited, but I thought it was because she hadn't gotten a call from them.
I worked on touching up my best design: a long, silk evening gown inspired by moonlight, elegant yet soft. I'd poured my soul into it during my final semester.
Arica watched me from the couch. "You're really nervous, huh?" she asked.
"Of course," I said, adjusting the neckline carefully. "This is my dream." I muttered.
"Do you think Vicar Voss will be there?" She asked, twirling a lock of her hair.
"No. He's too busy for interviews." I spoke softly.
"But what if he is?" she pressed. "What if he notices you?"
"Then I hope he likes my work," I said simply.
She laughed, but there was something sharp in her tone. "If he notices you, he'll like more than your work." S he teased.
I looked up, confused. "What do you mean?" I mumbled.
"Nothing. Just saying. You're pretty, Berlin. Men like him notice that kind of thing." She smirked.
I rolled my eyes. "He's a billionaire, Arica. He probably doesn't even see people like me." I murmured.
"Maybe he should," she muttered under her breath.
I didn't catch it. I was too focused on fixing the hem of my gown.
That night, I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined myself standing inside VOSS Couture, surrounded by people who lived and breathed fashion. I could almost hear the sound of sketch pencils and see the gleam of silk under studio lights.
I couldn't wait to show up for my interview the next day….