Evelyn POV
Liora started the engine the moment I shut the door.
The city slid back into motion around us, traffic merging, horns distant, the day already moving faster than I felt inside.
She glanced at me briefly, one hand on the wheel.
"Nervous?"
I smiled a little, resting my head against the seat. "Not really."
That surprised even me.
She nodded as if she believed it. "Good. Means you're focused."
The rest of the drive passed quietly. Not tense. Just full. My thoughts stayed ahead of me, already inside the building we were driving toward, already bracing for whatever Milan had decided today would mean.
When we pulled up outside Milan, the place looked the same as always—glass, clean lines, people moving with purpose—but something underneath it felt different. Like the building itself knew it was about to let some people go.
Inside, the atmosphere was tight.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just restrained.
We were led into the evaluation room, the same one we'd used before. Models filled the space, standing in loose clusters, voices low, eyes sharp. Some were pretending not to look around. Others were already measuring their competition.
I found a spot near the center and stood still.
The doors opened.
A representative stepped in with a tablet.
And just like that, everything narrowed to sound.
Names were read.
One by one.
Each name that wasn't mine felt like a breath held too long. Each pause stretched tighter. I didn't move. Didn't blink. I focused on the rhythm of my own breathing, the way my hands stayed steady at my sides.
Then—
"Evelyn Hart."
The room shifted.
It wasn't loud. It was subtle. A flicker of movement. A glance here. A stiffening there.
Five names total.
Five of us remained standing.
The rest were dismissed politely, efficiently, already fading into the background of someone else's future.
"The second round will be conducted at Halcyon," the representative said. "You'll be escorted shortly."
That did it.
The whispers started immediately.
Halcyon.
I didn't react. I didn't need to. I could feel the weight of it without looking.
As we were ushered out, I spotted Liora near the glass doors, arms crossed, watching me with that familiar mix of confidence and concern.
"I'll be back soon," I said quickly as I passed her. "I'll explain."
She smiled, relieved but curious. "I'll be right here."
Outside, a black van waited.
Inside, the air felt thicker.
I took a seat and only then allowed myself to really look at the others.
That was when I noticed her.
The girl who had sat beside me during auditions.
She slipped into the seat next to mine again, like the universe had decided we were meant to share space.
She leaned slightly closer. "Guess we made it."
"Looks like it."
"I'm Lina," she said quietly, offering a small smile. "By the way."
"Evelyn."
"I know," she said, amused. "You don't exactly go unnoticed."
Across from us, someone scoffed.
I looked up.
She was beautiful in a way that demanded acknowledgment—tall, sharp-featured, posture flawless. She didn't bother hiding the way her eyes skimmed over us like we were items on a shelf she'd already claimed.
"Well," she said, crossing her legs slowly, "this is… interesting."
Lina didn't look impressed. She leaned closer to me and whispered, "Don't mind her."
The girl smiled thinly. "I'm Selene."
The way she said it carried expectation.
"And?" Lina asked mildly.
Selene's eyes flicked toward her, then back to me. "Some people don't belong in certain rooms. That usually becomes obvious by the second round."
I met her gaze calmly. "Good thing rooms don't get to decide that."
Lina smiled. "Told you."
Selene looked away, jaw tight.
Halcyon didn't announce itself with grandeur.
It didn't have to.
The building was massive but restrained, every surface intentional. We were led into a runway room that felt more like a controlled arena—raised platforms, bright but neutral lighting, cameras placed everywhere. Below the runway, several people stood in quiet discussion, dressed sharply, eyes sharp enough to cut.
These were the higher-ups.
Not smiling. Not hostile.
Evaluating.
We were instructed to change and choose our outfits ourselves.
I stood in front of the rack for a long moment before choosing something simple—clean lines, understated, nothing that shouted. I didn't need to shout.
When Selene walked, she made sure everyone watched.
Her steps were bold, deliberate. She stopped at the front, chin lifted.
"I'm here because I don't compete," she said smoothly. "I dominate."
Some of the evaluators raised their brows.
She smiled like that was victory.
When it was my turn, the room felt quieter.
I stepped forward, steady, aware of every eye but not bent by them.
"I don't dominate," I said. "I endure. I adapt. And I don't disappear when things get difficult."
I paused.
"If you're looking for someone unforgettable," I continued, "you won't need to teach me how to be seen."
I turned and walked back.