It had been days since Sadie came back to Willows Creek—and honestly, the whole town was buzzing like it had been hit by a lightning bolt of excitement!
Everyone wanted to see her. The girl who left. The one who made it. She'd gone off to the big city, lived the dream, walked runways and mingled with magazine editors. Now she was back—and people couldn't stop talking.
And we? We soaked it all in.
We spent our days walking the green fields, catching up with friends who hadn't left, laughing about our high school days and our old dreams. The air felt fresher somehow, the trees taller, the sky bluer. Sadie brought this strange energy with her—like a gust of wind that stirred everything still.
Those days were magic.
But the nights? That's when the truth found its way to the surface.
After one especially wild night of dancing under string lights, sharing stories over cider and fireflies, we sat in my backyard, wrapped in a blanket of stars.
And that's when Sadie finally said it.
"I didn't just come back to visit," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
My heart paused. "Okay…"
She looked out across the fields we used to run through barefoot, and she said the words I didn't expect to hear from her—ever.
"I'm going bankrupt."
Boom.
Just like that, the wind shifted. The laughter from earlier echoed in the distance like it belonged to different girls in a different time.
She told me everything.
The investors that pulled out. The skyrocketing rent. The team she couldn't afford to pay. The last collection that nearly broke her spirit.
"I've tried to fix it on my own, Scar. I really did. But I can't. I need help—and I need you."
I was stunned.
"You want me to come to Vanguard City?" I asked, blinking at her like she'd just asked me to fly to the moon.
Sadie nodded. "You're the best designer I've ever known. You've always had the kind of vision people feel. You see things in fabric that other people miss! You belong in this world, and maybe... maybe this is our second chance."
I didn't sleep that night.
Because how do you say goodbye to everything you've ever known—your home, your roots, your quiet—but steady life?
You don't.
You pack it all into two suitcases. And you go.
Vanguard City hit me like a gust of wind straight to the soul!
It was loud. Bold. Alive. Everything buzzed with purpose. Skyscrapers stabbed the sky like ambition made of steel. Billboards glowed like portals to another reality. People wore style like armor and walked like they were five seconds late to change the world.
It was... intoxicating.
Also? Terrifying.
Sadie's apartment was a stylish little chaos box—a loft with huge windows, half-dead plants, and fashion magazines stacked like bricks. Her couch became my bed. Her closet, my dreamland. It felt like something new. Something waiting to begin.
Then came the studio.
My jaw dropped the second I stepped inside.
Fabrics exploded in color. Sketches covered every wall. Pins stuck out of mannequins like tiny swords. It was messy, yes—but gloriously creative! It pulsed with potential, even if it also screamed save me!
We dove right in.
Brainstorming. Cleaning. Sketching. Calling contacts. Sending follow-ups. Laughing so hard we couldn't breathe.
We were building something. Rebuilding something. And somewhere in the middle of it, I started to believe I wasn't just visiting—I was becoming.
And then Sadie said the words that changed everything:
"There's a client. A big one."
My heart jumped. "How big?"
Sadie's eyes sparkled. "Camille Hathaway."
I blinked. "Wait—the Camille Hathaway? The fashion influencer turned philanthropist turned...?"
"Bride-to-be," Sadie finished. "And not just any bride. She's marrying Brian Wexler."
My heart didn't just skip a beat—it tripped, fell, and rolled down a hill.
Brian Wexler?!
The tech billionaire?
The cold genius behind Zenthium?
The man with the eyes of a storm and the bank account of a small country?!
Sadie grinned like she knew exactly what I was thinking. "Yup. That one."
"Is this real life?" I whispered.
Camille wanted something magical. Intimate. Timeless. "She wants the fairytale," Sadie said. "But she wants our version of it—elegant, emotional, and just edgy enough to make a headline."
And that's how I ended up standing in a luxury showroom the following day, dressed in borrowed heels and shaking like a leaf.
Camille? She was a vision. All sleek lines and diamond dazzle, with confidence that could melt steel. She walked like the world adjusted for her.
"You're Scarlett?" she asked, eyeing me curiously. "Sadie says you're the heart of her studio now."
"I'm... here to help," I said, trying not to sweat through my top.
She looked me up and down, smiled faintly. "Good. Because I'm trusting you with something that will be photographed a million times and judged by two million strangers. I want breathtaking."
"No pressure," I breathed.
"I want something no one expects," she added. "Brian's world is... cold. Mine isn't. I want this to feel like love without losing power."
My heart started to pound.
Challenge accepted.
I flipped open my sketchbook and shared a vision: moonlight tones, wild florals, candle-drenched shadows, and silk that moved like poetry. A space that whispered luxury but roared romance.
When I looked up, Camille was smiling.
"It's different," she said. "I like different."
That night, I stood on Sadie's balcony with a mug of tea and my sketchbook pressed to my chest. The city glowed around me like fireflies made of metal and glass.
I should have felt small.
But I didn't.
I felt... like I'd cracked something open.
Yes, I missed Willows Creek. I missed the stars that didn't hide behind skyscrapers. The quiet. The familiar.
But this?
This was a spark.
A chance.
A door I hadn't dared to knock on suddenly thrown wide open.
I took a shaky breath and smiled.
Because I was no longer standing still.
I was stepping forward.
And even though I didn't know what came next—I knew it would change everything.