ASHLEY

Matteo’s phone screen continues to light up every few seconds, reflecting against the glass table like a pulse that can’t be ignored. At first, I try to pretend I do not notice. We have more important matters at hand, like the designs I am showing him while my fingers glide across MY iPad. I rotate the 3D render of the new concept.

"This is the silhouette I am thinking of. It’s sharp at the shoulders, but the fall is intentional. I want it to feel like restraint and release at the same time. You know what I mean?"

He nods sagely, but his eyes flick downward again. His thumb moves fast, typing something but erasing it and typing again.

I stop rotating the screen and all but plunk the iPad on my thighs. A frustrated sigh escapes my lips. Matteo looks up then, finally noticing that I am no longer speaking.

"Sorry," he apologizes quickly. "I did not mean to be rude."

I lean back in my chair, folding my arms. "Really? I just spent the last forty-three minutes going over design concepts that should thrill you but you weren’t listening."

"I was," he insists, then exhales with a slump of his shoulders. "I am just... in a bind."

It’s plain as a day. He definitely seems distracted. "What’s up with you?"

He sets the phone down and rakes a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "The creative artists I reached out to for the collaboration with Rollins Fashion were thrilled. Honestly, it’s such a relief that this company still carries weight even with everything that has happened. Everyone reached back to confirm their availability, except Noxx..."

He trails off, rubbing his temple. "I did expect Noxx to be arrogant but not this arrogant. Dude literally got an offer even bigger than what the rest got from RF. I sweetened his, yet he hasn’t replied me till now."

I shift in my seat. "You are this distracted because of Noxx?"

"Yes."

"I get that he’s all the rave now but surely, you can still survive without him on the team. He’s just one designer. Why are you so keen on having him?"

Matteo pauses, then something like reverence softens his face. It is almost amusing watching someone praise me without knowing it.

"Noxx is not just talented," he says. "He is... coming of age in real time. You can see it in his collections. He understands where fashion has been but most importantly, where it is terrified to go next. While others are playing by the book and keeping it safe, he breaks the rules without looking like he is trying to break them. That is rare, and special."

I remain silently astounded by his words. I knew he was in awe of Noxx (of me) but to hear him speak like this with the glow in his eyes gives me a little heady feeling.

"Noxx is a trend setter who couldn’t be bothered to chase relevance," Matteo continues. "He’s a visionary. When he releases something, the industry shifts its footing to accommodate him. That is power."

My lips curve into a faint smile before I can stop myself. "Funny how when I started," I say lightly, "that is what they used to whisper about me too." I guess in Noxx’s case, it’s not a whisper but an echo.

Matteo meets my eyes and mirrors the nostalgia "That kind of spark does not disappear, Ashley."

"It sure feels like it has."

"You should not compare yourself to Noxx," he insists. "That would be a shame because every talent matters. You bring something just as unique to the fashion world."

I almost laugh but I’ve never seen him more serious.

He leans forward with a sharp look in his eyes. "I am not chasing Noxx because he is necessarily better than you," he clarifies. "I am chasing him because my job is to revive Rollins Fashion. He’s an uprising sensation and if I lose him to another company, the board won’t take me seriously. They will question and doubt my me." 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

He surges to his feet. "I know what I am doing and by the time I am done, you will find your spark again. I mean that. But first, I need to bag Noxx."

I nod, schooling my expression. "Got it."

He flashes me a smile with a thumbs up. "Great. Now, let me go see if I can get Noxx to at least come in for a meeting."

I listen to the soft thump of his shoes as he leaves. Suddenly, the studio feels emptier than before. Sighing deeply, I return to my iPad to resume working.

***

The next time I lift my head and tear my eyes off work, it’s almost midnight. The city outside the windows hums softly, rain tapping against the glass in irregular rhythms. My desk is littered with torn sketches. The papers all bleed pencil marks.

At some point which I frankly don’t recall, I must have sampled some fabrics, gulped two cups of coffee and eaten half a slice of pizza.

I ignore the mess around me and draw again only to rip the paper midway. The designs feel wrong. It’s too safe and censored. Every line feels like it is being tugged by the invisible hands of the board.

Briefly, I recall the first words father ever said to me before handing me the reins of my company, "Rollins Group does not need your creativity. We just need something that sells without risk."

I’ve always felt like a puppet since then. Every sketch I made as Ashley was a compromise stitched into the fabric. It always felt ’okay’ back then, as long as I basked in the euphoria of sales. However, I can’t seem to find it tolerable anymore, not since Noxx showed up. Suddenly, okay designs don’t feel good enough anymore.

I tear another page. The sound echoes too loud in the quiet studio.

Pressing my palms to the desk, I draw in a deep breath. Fashion was never supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to be instinct. Obsession. Hunger. Now it feels like tailoring grief into garments no one will truly see.

My door opens softly behind me.

"You always work yourself into the ground," a feminine voice that is all too familiar quips. My neck cranes to find Nicci standing just inside the doorway, her hair clinging to her jacket. Her eyes are soft with sympathy.

"I was in the area," she says, interpreting the confusion on my face. "I saw the light on up here and knew it had to be you." She lifts a hand. "Brought some beer."

It feels so familiar, so dejavu. Yet, I accept the canned beer without comment, taking a long sip. The bitterness grounds me. "Thank you, really."

I flash her a benign smile as we sit in silence for a moment, the past pressing close. She used to do this while we were still messing around; show up to my office late at night to keep me company. Sometimes, she was more of a muse than a distraction to my creative process.

I remember the way she used to sit on my desk, legs swinging, lips curled in laughter.

She was my first love, but she also ruined me twice over.

I shake the memories loose. "So, how is work treating you?"

She smiles back. "Good. Surprisingly good. I thought I’d need to cross a lot of hoops to get decent gigs but things are going pretty well." She hesitates, then adds, "Like the email I got from Rollins Fashion."

My head snaps up. "What?"

"Yeah, I was just as surprised. They want me to model for them." Her gaze dips. "After everything that happened between us...I wasn’t expecting that." She meets my eyes now. "Ash, you didn’t have to put in a good word for me but I’m grateful you did. This will be a big career boost. Thank you."

Immediately, I realize what’s happening here. Matteo.

He certainly dug into my past. Scratch that, there isn’t much to dig as Nicci and I were very public. Matteo must have known how Nicci inspired my work. Did he bring her into this project under the guise of a model but mostly to resurrect my dead craft? Is this his BIG plan to help me get my spark back?

Clever bastard!

"You look stunned," Nicci cuts in, angling her head. "Like all this is news to you. I thought you pulled the strings that got me here."

"I didn’t," I reply honestly. "Matteo is the new creative lead. He’s in charge of assembling the best talents and models that would help rebrand the company. It was his call. I had no idea about this until you walked in."

She studies my face, and I study hers which is bereft of disappointment or pity. Good. She has indeed moved on, just like I have.

Nicci nods. "Good. It really feels good to know I caught his attention and made his list without any aid from you." A soft cackle follows as she throws her head back. "Gosh, I don’t recall the last time I earned anything without your help."

I spare her the bitter truth. Matteo did bring her in because of me, but it feels good to see her so proud of herself.

"I agreed to his proposal when I heard Noxx was also being considered."

Something sharp twists in my chest as she utters those words. Of course, she’s a fan.

"I would love to work with him," she adds with glittery eyes trained at the skies outside the window. "It would be good for my career."

I smile tightly. "Of course."

I vaguely remember our first public sighting. I was at the peak of my career and she was an uprising model. Somehow, that dynamic always works out for her. Now, she has her sights set on Noxx.

I hate how her eyes light up when she says his name, even though Noxx is literally ME. It’s infuriating to think she probably only loved the light I brought to her life and not me as a person. All that admiration used to be for me, now she wants Noxx because the world is swooning for his talent. I feel used.

The rain outside grows heavier, drumming against the windows. The sound pulls memories from the walls, like the nights we lay tangled in sweat and passion from sex.

Judging by how she shifts uncomfortably, I realize Nicci recalls the same thoughts. She leaps to her feet.

"I should go. My ride will be here soon."

Relief washes through me. "Yeah. Congrats on the job."

"Thank you. I look forward to working together again." She blows me a kiss and struts out.

I grab my phone to snap at Matteo but Ashal’s call comes in before I can dial anyone else. Hearing him over the phone makes my stomach twist in painful knots.

"Stay right there. I’m on my way!"

***

Ashal sits alone in the VIP lounge of the infamous Blue Cove Club, hands clasped in prayer. His eyes are red-rimmed when they desperately latch onto me as I rush in. I note how there are no bottles on the table, or glass in his hand. He looks... stripped.

I pull him into a hug. "What is going on, bro? Is this another crisis?"

He laughs softly. "She is alive."

I pull back, gripping his face. "What? Who is alive."

"Olivia." He hums with glassy eyes.

The world tilts. For a moment, I think he has finally broken.

"I saw her." He goes on to explain his suspicions over time and how his visit to the Dunn house solidified everything.

"She is alive," he repeats, voice shaking. "I am so glad."

I hug him again tightly. I am sure he knows what he’s saying. "What are you going to do now?"

"Nothing. I will support her like I always wanted to, from a distance. I will respect her wish to be left alone. I will carry on with Maddi if she will still have me and raise my child with her."

It is the most selfless thing I have ever heard him say. I kiss his forehead, happy for the peace he has found.

"This calls for a celebration, don’t you think?" As he begins to protest, I shush him. "One drink won’t hurt. If you were so worried about drinking, this is the last place you should have visited given our history here."

While he places the order, my phone vibrates with Matteo’s call. About time. I have a few words to say to him myself but before I can get a word in, his loud voice sails through.

"Noxx agreed," he says breathlessly, happily. "Noxx is going to be on the project. Can you believe it?"

My blood runs cold. I certainly can’t believe it because I didn’t agree to anything. And if I didn’t, then who the hell is Matteo talking to?

I cut the call and go online. There’s already a post about Noxx saying YES to Rollins Fashion. Bullshit. That can’t be. I pull up my social account as Noxx.

"Password Incorrect."

What the fuck? I try 5 times and still can’t get access into my own account. Then it dawns on me. Someone has stolen my identity as Noxx!