After more mingling, Mel walks over with two plates full of small appetizers that she snagged from a passing waiter. I almost refuse her offer, but my stomach grumbles, so I decide to take it, and I feel the energy return to me after eating with her.
“They were all screaming for Sage.” Mel shoves me playfully.
“Yeah, paparazzi always do that; they freaking love her.”
I laugh at Nin but then bring a hand to my stomach because my dress feels tight. I take in a deep breath but immediately stop because my dress definitely feels tighter.
“You okay?” Nin studies me, concern clear on her face.
“Yeah.” I smile at the girls, then turn when someone grabs my arm.
“The new outfits are ready,” Angie says quietly. “Let’s do a quick try-on to make sure we’re good.”
I nod, but when I glance down at myself, I tell her, “Let me use the bathroom–”
“Sage, it’ll be quick, just–”
“I’ll be quicker.” I rush off to the bathroom before she can stop me.
Locking the door behind me, I bend down to check for feet under the stalls and let out a sigh of relief when they are empty. I turna faucet on before walking into the last stall. I take a deep breath, and when I feel my dress tighten around my waist, I don’t think twice and lean over the toilet before forcing two fingers down my throat.
Everything I ate came up after three tries. My dress doesn’t feel like it’s about to pop anymore, but I make myself throw up one more time for good measure.
I blink my watery eyes before I ruin my makeup. When I’m done, I flush and wash my hands. I glance at myself in the mirror and turn to the side. Running a hand down my stomach, I turn my head to the side and chew on my lip.
My brain seems to pick apart every other part of myself. The way my big thighs rub together instead of having a thigh gap like a few of the other girls. I turn my head to the other side as I take in my arms next.
I felt gorgeous in this dress before, but now–
Someone knocks on the door and I jump out of my head. I eat a gum before unlocking the door and my jaw drops.
“Sage mother fucking LoanaHale!”
I let out a squeal before pulling in Vlaire for a tight hug. “I didn't know you were going to be here! You usually let me know. We could've hung out before this!” I know she’s acquainted with Vincent, considering her mom, the icon herself, modeled for Vincent's mom before the Moore company was passed to Vincent, but shealwayscalls me when she's in the States.
“I wasn't going to come.” She shakes her head softly, and I pick up on her somber tone, although she voices her words with a smile. “Vincent just reminds me too much of my mom.” When she smiles this time, I pick up on how forced it is.
I pull her in for another hug, and her arms come around me. “I'm so sorry again for your loss, Vlaire. If it all becomes too much for you, you know you can come backstage with me. No one will dare say anything to you.” I pull away and kiss her cheek gently. While it's been a little over a year since her mom passed, I can't imagine ever getting over a loss like that, especially with the constant reminders.
“Thank you, Sage. Mamãe would've loved you. I hate that you never got to meet her. ” She takes both of my hands and holds them out as she studies me from head to toe. I feel uncomfortable under her unwavering gaze after a beat, but she watches me like–
“Beautiful.” She shakes her head. “Ugh, I love you. I literally only flew here for you.” She beams, her heavy Brazilian accent weighing on her words.
I feel my face flush and laugh as I thank her.
“Is it true you’re modelingfivepieces?” She sort of whispers as she leans in.
“My agent is going to murder me if I confirm or deny, so I’m going to slowly walk away.” I nod yes, and she squeals as I rush off with a laugh.
I hold my breath the entire time I try on the two new outfits, and they thankfully fit. I'm sure it wasn't too hard to adjust them since Royal and I are closest in size among The Eight.
The new pieces are practically shining on their hangers. One is a diamond corset dress with a fluffy short-cut shirt. The other is a dress, and the way it flows gives the illusion of fire—did I mention they aregorgeous?!
As I’m slipping out of the dress, all of the girls start trickling in, and just like that, the show is starting. We touch up my hair and makeup once I’m in my first outfit. I’m opening the show, so the second the cue song plays, I’m walking out on stage.
I see a few scattered flashes, but I shut out the room and its distractions, keeping my focus on my picked-out point at the back of the room and walking the way we rehearsed.
I notice Mr. Moore at the end of the stage. His face is stone cold as he watches me and the rest of the girls. I look back up and stop to pose. A few people take pictures, and I hear comments on my dress before I turn and walk back down.
