Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
VIRGILIO
I sit at my desk, the drone of the teacher's voice blends into a monotonous background noise. My eyes are fixed on the blackboard, but my mind is miles away. I can’t focus on anything but Zoe. Her eyes, usually so full of life, had been empty when I last saw her. The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.
She had handed me the vault of broken dreams that used to be the SD card of her now shattered photo camera. Her hands trembled as she let it go. "I don't think I'll ever be able to do this," she whispered. Her father’s cruelty had shattered more than just a photo camera; it had shattered her spirit. I had never seen her so defeated, and it twisted something deep inside me.
I wanted to help. Zoe’s designs were incredible—better than any I'd ever seen—and they deserved a chance to shine, even if she couldn’t see it right now. I couldn’t stand by and let her dream die.
A few days earlier, after school had ended and the halls were empty, I made my way to the computer lab. The door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, and the quiet hum of computers greeted me. It was almost calming in a way, as if the machines were urging me on.
I slipped into one of the chairs and plugged in Zoe’s USB drive. The screen flickered to life with a soft glow. Navigating to the contest website was easy; I’d been there before, back when Zoe first asked me to model for her.
When I reached the upload page, my heart pounded in my chest. This was it. I selected all the photos we took from the USB and clicked 'submit.' The screen took a moment to process before confirming the submission with a simple message: "Thank you for your entry."
This was a gamble—a shot in the dark—but I believed in Zoe's talent more than anything else. She deserved this chance to shine, even if she didn’t know it yet.
I leaned back in the chair for a moment, letting out a breath of relief. The hum of computers filled the silence again, steady and constant, almost like a promise that things could still turn out alright.
I logged off and pulled out the USB drive, slipping it back into my pocket. As I left the lab and walked down the now-deserted halls, my steps felt lighter than they had in days.
Now, my phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket. I discreetly pull it out and see an unknown number flashing on the screen.
"Mr. Russo, would you care to share what's so important?" The teacher asks
"Sorry, sir. It's, um, a family emergency," I lie, already out of my seat.
"Fine. Be quick about it," he grumbles, clearly not buying it but letting me go anyway.
I step into the hallway and quickly answer the call. "Hello?"
"Good afternoon. Is this Zoe Gray?" a crisp voice asks.
"No, this is Virgilio Messina. Zoe gave my phone number in her submission for the contest."
"This is Michael Thompson, Valerie Moore's sponsor. I'm calling to arrange a meeting to discuss Ms. Gray’s attendance at Milan’s Fashion Week."
“What?” My heart leaps into my throat. "Did she win?" I can barely contain my excitement.
"The first selection, yes. She passed to the next stage of the contest. She is one of the few contestants to make it to the grand finale."
"Understood. Can you please hold for a minute?" I try to keep my cool over the phone, but I feel like I might burst with joy as I race through the crowded hallways, dodging students and ignoring curious stares. My heart pounds with every step, adrenaline pushing me to run faster.
Finally, I reach the art room. The smell of paint and the soft rustle of paper fill the air as I burst through the door.
"Zoe!" I call out, breathless from running.
The entire class looks up, but I don't care. My eyes are locked on Zoe, who sits quietly sketching at her desk. Her head snaps up at my voice, confusion clouding her features.
"You need to take this call!" I rush over and hand her my phone.
Zoe takes it hesitantly, her brow furrowed in confusion as she listens to the sponsor on the other end. I watch intently as her expression shifts—first disbelief, then joy lighting up her eyes. But just as quickly, a shadow of fear crosses her face.