please read the end note! please :)

also, just a heads up: this chapter contains a lot of lengthy paragraphs and a REALLY long one.

The night seemed to drag on for hours and hours and hours. When I thought I would get a tiny break for myself, someone would come and whisk me away. I soon learned that just because there’s a 10 model gap in between my turns, that doesn’t necessarily mean I could just sit there and chill out.

“Please, Miss Bryans! Straighten your back,” my hairstylist scolded me for the fifth time. Even after my endless persuading, he still opted to call me “Miss Bryans” instead of just “Jessica”.

“Sorry Pablo! I’m just so pooped,” I said, raising my shoulders.

He gave me a confused look. “What’s pooped? Do you need to use the ladies room?”

A small laugh came from behind him, and the director of the show (I didn’t know fashion shows had directors), Annabelle, stepped around Pablo. “It’s just an expression Pablo.”

“Oh.” Pablo giggled. “My bad.” He tugged a bit more at my hair then added, “Okay Miss Bryans. You are ready!”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Annabelle pulled me to my feet and dragged me out the door.

“Ow, ow, ow, Annabelle! I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own,” I protested.

Annabelle rolled her eyes and tugged at my wrists. “Yes, but you walk like a snail. Now, hurry up!”

When we reached the “entrance” to the runway, she looked me over once, twice, three times, and then shoved me to the techie waiting by the curtains.

“This is your second last run,” she said sternly. “Remember, as soon as you come back inside after this one, go into your changing room. You’re the last model for the night, so we need to leave a good impression.”

“Okay,” I replied, getting into my focus zone.

“So, don’t waste anytime!” Annabelle called after me as I began walking.

“Okay!” I yelled back.

“I’m serious!”

“OKAY,” I said furiously, then stomped off when the techie guy queued me in.

Thanks to her, I couldn’t get into my focus zone properly and was totally nervous when I stepped into the light. By now, I was more comfortable than I had been the first time I stepped onto the runway but I was still extremely paranoid. I strained my eyes forward, not daring to look at anybody in the crowd, not even Jenna or Stacy, and just stared at the big poster at the end of the large room. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

Finally, I made it back behind the curtains, still in one piece and holding on to my dignity. Making my way back to my dressing room, I passed Michaela, who was looking awfully sour. More sour that she usually was.

“What’s wrong? Upset that I didn’t make a fool out of myself?” I asked in an overly sweet voice.

She smiled at me in a devilish way. “Of course.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think I’ll be doing anything humiliating anytime soon,” I laughed at patted her on the head, which earned me a cold glare.

But, her glare quickly disappeared and was replaced by a smug smile. “We’ll see.”

Before I could respond, Annabelle ran up to me.

“Jessica, what are you doing? You need to go to your dressing room now!” she yelled, then ushered me in the right direction.

“Okay, okay,” I said and walked to my room. Closing the door, I saw Michaela still with the smirk on her face. She’s such a loser.

For the next painful 10 minutes, I was thoroughly attacked by Pablo, my make-up artist, Jeanie, and the outfit stylist, Marilyn. By the end of the dreadful (yet familiar) routine, I was sore from head to toe. They wanted me to be perfect and dazzling for my last appearance. And I was. My final outfit was a simple silk tank top, for sleeping. Accompanied with it was a light pink tutu, and pink high heels with satin ribbons designed to look like ballet shoes. My hair was tied up into a messy – but neat at the same time – bun, to maintain the traditional ballerina look. Every inch of my skin that was exposed glittered faintly from the light. It looked amazing, but I had to pay the price. I could feel my pores crying out in pain right now.

It occurred to me then that this entire thing was crazy. Jake, Scarlet, Michaela, Annabelle, Pablo…everything was out of balance. If someone had told me a month ago that in 4 weeks time, I would be the model of La Ballerine, I would have laughed in their face and then perhaps recommended some psychiatric help. But now, nothing seemed to out of reach. For the first time, I didn’t feel like I hadn’t accomplished anything – I felt like now, I could do anything I wanted to.

Michaela and Scarlet started walking up to me. I braced myself for whatever snide remarks they probably have prepared.

“Jessica,” Scarlet said in a voice that was completely not her own. It sounded sweet and caring. Michaela looked like she was struggling to keep her composure, but made no move to talk.

I gave a curt nod to both of them. “Michaela, Scarlet.”

Scarlet looked around like she was unsure what to do. Or maybe she was looking around, nervous that she would get caught for what she was about to do next. “I just wanted to apologize,” she said finally.

I gave her a look to tell her I’m not convinced.

Her face was crestfallen, but still a persistent expression remained. “I know that I haven’t been very…pleasant to you,” she continued, “but now I realize that I was really, really wrong. I’m really sorry.”

My face remained unmoved. “For being a bitch?”

She cringed at my bluntness. Michaela looked surprised for a second before dropping her nail filer.

“Listen Scarlet,” I began.

“Jessica,” she cut me off. “Just listen okay?” She paused, waiting to see if I was going to cut her off. I didn’t. “I know that we’ll never be the best of friends,” she said. “But I just don’t want to continue on like this with you hating on me for no apparent reason.”

No apparent reason. I wanted to tell Scarlet that she was being ridiculous. If this is what she calls an apology, I don’t want it.

Scarlet has a hopeful appearance on her face. Her eyes flickered down to Michaela, and a smirk crossed her lips. “So do you think we’ll be okay?” she asked.

I sighed. “I don’t really think that –”

The smirk on her face grew wider. “Okay, at least I tried.”

Before I could say anything else, she skipped away with Michaela. The only think I could think about that was how weird it was. I mean, I understand how dreadful it must be for Scarlet to apologize to somebody else even though she knows deep down she’s high almighty and she’s never wrong. But I couldn’t help but thinking why now? Was it because she realized that I’m finally becoming somebody bigger than she is? That she’s not better than me anymore?

I felt myself being pulled forward. I quickly realized that it was Annabelle, pulling me to the curtain. Weaving in and out of my thoughts and reality, I caught little parts of her lecture. I can’t believe you’re just standing around…there’s only 90 seconds…fix your hair…don’t fall…last chance…

I rolled my eyes at her but quickly obliged. And once again, it was my time in the spotlight.

When I stepped onto the white shiny surface of the runway, I felt different than I had the previous times. Another model, Bethany, I think, smiled at me as she passed. To my surprise, I smiled back. The simple incantation of left and right was at the far edge of my mind and for the first time in the show, I took the chance to really take in my surroundings. There were hundreds of people sitting in little black folding chairs, all dressed like they were somebody. In the second row, I saw Miranda Kerr (a personal favourite of mine) sitting with some other girl, chatting happily. Stacy and Jenna sat a row in front, smiling and clapping viciously. How they got in the front row, I couldn’t guess. As I reached the end of the runway, I spotted Jake, sitting directly in front, watching me with a distinct amount of pride in his eyes. Even though I saw him everyday, I couldn’t help but marvel how good he looked in his suit. As if he sensed me looking, Jake’s eyes met mine. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I didn’t want to stop staring at him. I know it sounds cliché, but it was that moment. That moment I see on movies that make me feel all tingly inside. That moment I read about in books, only to reread it because of its perfection. Because now I know what was so great about it. Because now I know what it feels like to have your heart stop in your throat, and you can’t breath but it’s a good thing. Because the revelation comes so quickly that it shocks me but makes perfect sense. I loved him. And it wasn’t some petty love, like what he had with Scarlet back then, or probably what he had with her now. It felt real and overwhelming and I wanted to cry, even though I couldn’t. But I knew I was going to later. When I tell him. When I tell him with all my heart and soul that I love him, there will be tears of joy and it will be a perfect moment because he’ll hold me and tell me that he loves me too. He’ll tell me that Scarlet never mattered, and he made a horrible mistake by marrying her, and it’ll be perfect in the end because we’ll end up together. Because, as cheesy as it sounds, him with his perfections and imperfections and me with my perfections and imperfections fit together like a giant jig saw puzzle waiting to be solved. And I just solved it.

I was still staring at Jake when I neared the end of the runway. Offering him a small smile, I take my final step before turning around and heading back. Then something changed. The twinkle in his eyes was mustered with worry, and he looked like he wanted to shout something at me. At first, I didn’t have the faintest idea what he could possibly want to tell me know, but then I quickly knew it. Or, felt it, is a better phrase. There was a tug at my feet and then I felt myself fall forwards. I know it was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. The room went silent, Jake’s eyes went big, and suddenly, cameras clicked and flashed all around me. There was nothing I could do to stop it and it was going to be a thousand times worse because I was at the end of the runway, which means that I would not only fall, but I would fall past the runway floor, and down to the real ground, which was another 4 feet way to go.

In the midst of my frantic search for something to stop myself, I let out a small squeak and closed my eyes. It was coming. Humiliation, shame, embarrassment. No doubt I would have to face it tomorrow morning when the newspaper hits the stand, or sometime next week when the latest issue of Us Weekly or People or some other entertainment magazine hit the stands.

I braced myself for the fall, for the feel of the hard and cold floor hit my skin. But it never came. Instead, I fell sharply into something warm. It wasn’t soft, there was still the sharp pang of pain that I felt which would definitely leave a bruise tomorrow morning, but it wasn’t what I expected. I cracked one eye open slowly, then the other, and saw Jake standing over me, his expression mixed with worry and the boyish grin that he always has.

There was a buzz of chatter in the air and the camera clicks and flashes went off again, this time faster than it had before.

“Hey there,” Jake said quietly. So quietly, that I knew only I could hear him.

“Hi,” I replied in the same hushed tone.

Jake gave me another smile and shifted, so that I could stand up straight. Before I could register what I was doing, I grabbed the collar of his suit, and searched his face for a sign. A sign of anything – protest, rejection, worry…

“What are you doing?” he asked, slightly amused, slightly confused.

I simply shook my head and peered deeper into his face. His small grin quickly faded away and a tiny flicker of realization crossed it.

I pulled myself upward with as much strength as I could muster and kissed him with. Leaving no time for hesitation, Jake tightened his arm around my waist and responded so enthusiastically, it made my head dizzy. He lifted me off from my leaning position and in one swift movement, lifted my off the ground in an air tight hug.

Around us, the sound and light of the cameras blew up, and it seemed like everyone wanted to get a closer look at what was happening.

But I didn’t care. I didn’t care that I would probably make the front page of every newspaper in the city. I didn’t care that tomorrow my phone would blow up with phone calls from every journalist in the state, wanting an interview, a word, anything. That would be tomorrow, next week, next month, and I didn’t have to deal with that right now.

Right now, there was only me. And Jake. And it was perfect.

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ohhhhhhhhhhhhmygod. this chapter has the longest paragraphs ever! sorry about that, haha :)

thank you guys for voting/commenting on the last part! i really enjoy reading your comments! anyways, goal for this chapter is still 200 votes :)

okay, so i need to ask a favor from you guys. as some of you may know, i'm the laziest person out there. but since the ex best friend AND camp not so fun (yes, i haven't forgotten about this story) are coming to an end, i have had some ideas for other stories. i only want to take it one story at a time, but i don't know which one to pick.

the first is a story about a girl named Sydney St. Clair. She's a wedding planner, but does match making on the side (which is is famous for). A long time friend of hers asks her to set her up with a guy named Jesse. Of course Sydney does, because it's her job. But then she realizes that she has more in common with Jesse than she thought. It's a complicated love triangle with tons of drama.

the second story is about a girl (name undecided so let's call her Girl). She's very independant and doesn't feel like she needs a guy. In her senior year, a guy transfers to his school. Naturally, all the girls love him, but Girl isn't fazed. The guy is interested in Girl and they soon make it a challenge to see who falls for who first.

and the third story is about a girl spy who's sent under cover to a pretigious boarding school where she has to infiltrate a dangerous corporation. there's a ton of twists to this story, and a little bit of added romance, which is also kind of a love triangle/square.

okay, so can you guys tell me which story you'd like to read first (assuming you care about my other stories lol) and leave a comment telling me the number 1, 2 or 3! also, i haven't got any names for any of these stories, so if you think of something, lemme know as well!

thanks soooooo much