5

Fashion Talk

"What sparked your interest in fashion?" The interviewer asked. We were in my living room, and this morning I got a call to get interviewed by a fashion-based show named Fashion is in New York. I wasn't prepared, but I made sure to at least ease my mind before they had arrived.

Everyone else was in our home office down the hall, assembling all the necessities to make the fashion show breathtaking. We currently had fashion pieces that we are convinced will make everyone gasp in amazement.

"I love the idea of the transforming qualities clothing can give you. And no one recognizes this but fashion speaks volumes. When I was younger, I watched my mother, Luna Ambrosia, run her clothing-based company in Italy and I fell in love with it all, everything that goes into it. How collective people can be, and the united front that you see is amazing. My mother taught me a lot, I'm not entirely certain she's aware of that."

"She'll sure know now," the interviewer states. "So do you have a favorite from your new collection?"

I fold my hands over my crossed legs and smile. "The Oli Pop, it was the second one I sketched out and I fell in love with it. I created it because I wanted something that represented a mind in a way. How explosive and far your mind can go. You're diving into the deep end with this one, I'm sure our artsy audience got inspired."

The interviewer smiles with an excited nod. "I have no doubt they did, I have to say your collection is rather visual. Did this spark any new ideas in the future?"

"No, not at the moment."

She nods before she looks down at her paper. "You have a lot of fans who are wondering what your theme for this year's fashion week will be, and I do too."

"Skater Core, I'm stoked."

A few minutes later the cameraman announces, "And we're done."

I stood up and shook hands with the interviewer. "Thank you for having me."

She smiles. "Oh no, thank you for accepting us. I mean you are the Morgan Ambrosia. We love you." I put both hands over my heart. Minda shows them out, and I sit back down. That wasn't as bad, but I need some water.

"Minda!" I hear the heel of her shoes tap against the marble floor.

"Yes, Ms. Ambrosia?" She stands before me with her hands clasped together.

I put my head in my palm as my elbow rests on the arm of the chair. "Bring me some water, and then whip me up some tea."

"Right on it, ma'am." She walks away, and I stretch my neck. I woke up so early for that interview. And tomorrow I won't get any sleep either because I have to take a flight to Miami Florida to see the Miami Fashion Week Show at the Wynwood Arts District.

The elevator dings and I glance over my shoulder to see who it is. I hear footsteps, I don't know how many, but they're headed this way. Suddenly I see Marco and his best friend, him, walking into the living room. My brother raises his arms at the sight of me.

"I'm back."

I turn back to the front and place my head back in my palm. I was too exhausted for him to be parading his stupidity around. And why did he always bring thing two with him?

"We saw you on tv just now, but we waited for them to leave before coming up," Marco says as they plop down on the leather couch.

"You should've stayed down there." I stand up and don't bother sparing any of them a glance. I leave them in the living room and walk up the stairs to recline and melt into oblivion.

"Are you ready?" I ask Amber the next morning. I packed a small bag and it was already in the car. Amber looks up at me from where she's seated on her suitcase.

I walk in and zip it closed for her. I chose her and Sofia to come with me to the Miami Fashion Week show, my closest friends. Sofia was already in the car or chatting with George.

She liked to talk to him just to hear his accent. I didn't find accents cool for a girl who sort of had one myself.

"Thanks, I've been trying to close this all morning." I smile and pick it up for her.

"You know we're only staying for a night right?" I ask eyeing her suitcase. I look back at her.

"There's no harm in being prepared and whatnot."

"For what?"

She shrugs and gives me a knowing look. Then she proceeds to wiggle her eyebrows. I give her an unamused expression and leave her room.

"You know, the day you give us some love is the day you might die," She says as she follows me down the stairs.

"Oh, and did I mention I'm in love with your skirt suit." I glance down at my Imperial blue flounce-skirt suit. One I designed myself, two years ago.

"It's one of mine, from the Spring collection." We walk to the elevator and I press the button, the doors open and we step in.

"See, I knew from the moment I saw you at Parsons you were going to make it girl."

I give her a shrug. "You made it with me."

"I know, but it's your company, I'm so proud of you."

I brush my hair back and look at her. "Amber, I may own it, but it's ours."

She gives me a beatific expression. "You do have emotions."

I stare at her flatly. She shrugs and goes on her phone.

When we get to the first floor, George is already standing beside it. I wondered if he was trying to get away from Sofia, a smirk finds its way on my face as I walk to the main doors.

George wastes no time as he walks ahead of me to open the door. My smirk was no longer visible on my face as the morning harsh winds of New York hit me.

Amber and I get in the limo as George puts her bag in the trunk.

I cross my legs and gaze out the window. Watch as the pedestrians of New York walk past us full of laughter, and couples enjoying hot chocolates. I even saw kids with uniforms pretending to smoke just to see their breath in the cold atmosphere. And some point to the limo trying to see who sat inside.

New York was such a diverse place, you saw everything here. I recalled back in college when I saw street performers and everyone surrounded them giving them a reason to continue.

I took the train sometimes too, just trying to experience the true way of being a New Yorker. The transit system wasn't bad, but I preferred getting to places on time.

Traffic wasn't an issue for me because it's not every day that I ease back and let things be. I was always on a lax schedule. I portrayed a serious boss, which of course I was. But I also wanted everyone to feel at ease at Fasho which is why I added a reclined area to the building.

It was a busy job though, so sometimes no one got a break. With the Fasho Fashion Show coming up, we had a lot on our plate. I'm covering many interviews regarding my new collection that I made with the help of my team.

Next week, I'm going to pick three people to present to me a new fashion issue. The best one will be in our magazine worldwide. At first, I thought they wouldn't be sold but turns out there are a lot more dreamers out there than I thought.

"Are you and Liam alright?" Sofia asks me now, Amber looks up from her phone curious herself.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"You two haven't been hanging out, and he called Brian because you weren't picking up."

I turn back to the window with a shrug.

"Margo?" Amber says. I don't turn to look at her. I know, it's weird. Ever since he got close to me the way he did, I just couldn't face Liam. I was annoyed, and I was confused as to why I was even feeling the way I am. I used to be a brick wall.

A habit I specialized in so I can thrive in the big world. I don't know when it started, but once I took notice of it, I just didn't care.

"What's wrong?"

I'm wondering the same thing myself.

Why was I letting him change me? I was so much better when he wasn't around. Now he was always around. Why did my brother always come over now?

Crap was there something wrong with him, and I was just occupied being consumed by my problems, and celebrations?

I never gave it any thought.

"Ms. Amborisa," George says now. I must've zoned out because now he was at my door. "We're here."

I take in a deep breath and nod. I step out of the car and follow the girls to the jet that was waiting for us to board.

"You okay?" Amber asked now. As I looked at her, I knew that she didn't know if asking me was the right choice.

"I am, I'm just tired and sleep-deprived."

She gives me an unconvinced face, but then she shrugs and we board the jet. "Let's get this glamorous weekend on ladies."

Then we shall.