Serena’s POVWith just a week until the fashion show, things are getting really busy in my studio. I've been deep in my work, creating a variety of unique jewelry pieces designed to stand out on the runway. My workspace is covered with gemstones, wires, and tools, as I bring each design to life.Ste
Serena’s POVMax's expression tightens, clearly not happy with my sarcasm. He pauses for a moment, arms crossed, as he thinks about what to say next.After a moment, Max uncrosses his arms and says, "Let's see if your TikTok jewelry can actually handle the high fashion scene."Max is such a jerk to
Serena’s POVIt's the day of the fashion show, and I'm carefully inspecting the jewelry designed for Josephine's collection. As I examine each piece, I notice some slight discoloration that wasn't there when we set them up yesterday. Something isn’t right.Suddenly, Josephine approaches me, her expr
Serena’s POVI spot Stevie among the pre-show chaos, camera in hand. She's capturing the flurry of activity around her, focusing on the models getting their last-minute touch-ups and the designers making final adjustments to their garments.I make my way through the bustling crowd and reach Stevie.
Serena’s POVI find myself taking charge with a sense of purpose I hadn't fully realized I possessed. Surrounded by Calvin's team of expert jewelers, I quickly lay out the plan.“We need to focus on the most damaged pieces first,” I begin, gesturing toward a collection of necklaces and bracelets on
Serena’s POVFrom a monitor backstage, I watch intently as the runway show unfolds. The first to showcase is Josephine’s collection. The models glide down the runway in elegant, flowing garments made from sustainable fabrics. Her outfits showcase organic textures and colors like forest greens, eart
Serena’s POVThe designers and models exit the stage while Marjorie remains. She steps forward, microphone in hand, and addresses the crowd."Thank you all for being here tonight," Marjorie begins, her voice clear and warm. "The designers worked incredibly hard to put this show together, and I belie
Bill’s POV"Who the fuck are you?" the security guard barks as I enter the CCTV room. The room is dim, lit only by the flickering screens displaying silent footage from around the building. He's a broad-shouldered man with a clean-shaven head, his brow furrowed in suspicion."Name's Bill Richardson.
Calvin‘s POVThe buzz of my phone pulls me out of my focus, its vibration rattling against the glass surface of my desk. It’s another alert, no doubt tied to the leak at Etoile de Collin. The headlines have been relentless: “Scandal Rocks Global Launch,” “Is Etoile de Collin Losing Its Shine?”I don
Stevie‘s POVThe click of my camera is the only sound in my apartment. The blinds are half-drawn, letting in just enough light to paint soft streaks across the floor. I’ve spent the last hour taking photos of mundane things — a chipped coffee mug, the shadow of my old ficus, the crumpled blanket I t
Calvin’s POVThe call comes in just as I’m reviewing a financial report in my office. It’s Serena, and I can tell immediately from her clipped tone that something’s off.“Calvin, we have a situation,” she says, not bothering with pleasantries.I lean back in my chair, setting the report aside. “What
Serena’s POVI tap my pen against the edge of the conference table, staring at the open file in front of me. My head’s buzzing, not from caffeine—I haven’t had nearly enough of that today—but from the words staring back at me in black and white.“Are you sure about this?” I ask Grace, my PR director
Calvin’s POVI’ve been staring at her address on my phone for ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to get out of the car. It’s ridiculous. I’ve faced down corporate takeovers and boardroom ambushes without flinching, but this? This feels harder.Stevie’s apartment building looms in front of me
Bill’s POVThe sound of waves crashing against the shore is a far cry from the usual buzz of our daily lives. No conference calls, no meetings, no tantrums over spilled cereal. Just the ocean, the wind, and Collin’s laughter as he runs across the sand, a kite string gripped tightly in his little han
Calvin’s POVThe waiting room at Stevie’s doctor’s office isn’t anything like I expected. It’s bright and cheerful, with pastel walls and outdated parenting magazines scattered across the coffee tables. A little kid toddles past me, clutching a stuffed giraffe, while his mom trails behind him with a
Serena’s POVStevie’s apartment smells like fresh paint and coffee, an oddly comforting combination that suits her. The space is small, cluttered with photography equipment and stacks of unopened baby gear, but it feels like her. It’s messy and lived-in, nothing like Calvin’s sterile penthouse.I kn
Calvin’s POVThe penthouse feels bigger now, emptier. It’s strange how silence can take up so much space, filling every corner and amplifying the absence of things you didn’t realize you depended on.Stevie’s laughter used to echo in this place, sharp and unfiltered, bouncing off the marble floors l