The Night We Won
Country: Aurivelle
City: Auremont
Alvara
The moment my model stepped onto the runway…
Everything inside me stilled.
I couldn’t see her anymore.
Only the sharp echo of her heels against the floor…
The slow rise of music…
The distant murmur of the audience.
And then…
Applause.
Soft at first.
Then building.
My breath caught.
That was for my design.
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
“Alvara…” Isabella whispered beside me, barely containing her excitement.
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t.
The second model was already moving.
I adjusted her sleeve quickly, my hands steadier now, more certain.
“Go,” I said under my breath.
She stepped out.
Again…
That sound.
That reaction.
Stronger this time.
Warmer.
Real.
Something shifted in my chest.
By the time the third model walked out…
I wasn’t breathing properly anymore.
I was feeling everything.
Every second.
Every reaction.
“It’s your cue.”
I blinked, turning. “My… what?”
The coordinator gestured toward the stage entrance.
“End of your segment.”
My heart skipped.
Right.
This part.
The one I had deliberately avoided thinking about.
I stepped forward slowly, suddenly aware of the sharp click of my heels.
Too loud.
Too present.
The curtain parted…
And I walked out.
The lights hit immediately.
Bright.
Blinding.
For a second, I saw nothing.
Then… shapes began to form.
Rows of people.
Watching eyes.
Flashes of cameras.
And then…
Front row.
My breath caught.
Grayson.
Seated with his family.
Mrs. Hawthorne…elegant, composed as always.
Mr. Hawthorne…quiet, observant.
His younger brother.
And another man I didn’t recognize.
But I couldn’t look at them for long.
Because Grayson…
Was already looking at me.
Not casually.
Not politely.
He was watching me.
Like the entire room had fallen away…
And it was just me standing there.
Something tightened in my chest.
I forced myself forward.
Step by step.
Composed.
Controlled.
Like I couldn’t feel it.
Then my gaze shifted…
To Mrs. Hawthorne.
She was smiling.
A proud smile.
Warm.
My eyes moved again…
Just slightly.
Mrs. Alexia stood off to the side of the runway.
Composed as always.
Unreadable at first glance.
But her eyes…
They gave her away.
Approval.
Pride.
The kind she didn’t offer lightly.
My chest tightened again.
Deeper this time.
Heavier.
I stopped at the center, giving a small, controlled nod..
Careful.
Then I turned and walked back.
Each step steadier than the last.
More certain.
More real.
The moment I crossed backstage…
Everything crashed back at once.
Sound.
Movement.
Breath.
“You did it,” Isabella said immediately, grabbing my arm.
I let out a shaky laugh, the tension finally slipping through.
“Did you hear them?” she pressed, her eyes bright. “They loved it.”
I shook my head slightly.
I was still trying to catch up.
Still trying to feel like I was actually here.
“Is Grayson there?” she asked quickly.
I nodded.
Her reaction was instant.
“Oh my God! You saw him up close again…I’m actually nervous now, I don’t even know why…”
She kept going, words spilling over themselves.
But my mind…
It wasn’t here anymore.
It was still out there.
On the runway.
With him.
The way he had looked at me…
The rest of the show blurred into fragments.
Design after design.
Faces.
Lights.
Applause.
But for me…
Everything had already shifted.
Something had changed.
I just didn’t know what yet.
Still, I stayed beside Isabella.
Watching.
Waiting.
As the final designers sent out their last pieces.
The music changed.
Softer now.
Slower.
Closing.
The final model stepped onto the runway.
And when she disappeared behind the curtain…
The lights dimmed.
Just slightly.
A pause followed.
Heavy.
Expectant.
The kind that held everything in place—
Right before it all changed again.
Then the voice came…
“Ladies and gentlemen… thank you.”
Applause filled the hall once more.
“Please welcome… the designers.”
“Alvara Dane.”
My name echoed through the room.
I stepped out.
This time… I wasn’t walking blindly.
I saw everything.
The audience.
The cameras.
And again…
Him.
Grayson.
Still watching.
Still looking at me like that.
I forced myself to stay focused, walking to the center, giving a small, controlled nod before stepping aside.
“Isabella Soren.”
She stepped out next…confident, radiant.
I smiled as she came to stand beside me.
“You didn’t faint,” she whispered.
“Neither did you,” I murmured back.
She grinned.
“Helena Voss”
“ Leonora Veyra”
“ Alessandra Deluca”
The names continued, one after the other, until all the designers stood on stage.
Then…
Mrs. Alexia stepped forward.
“You have all done exceptionally well,” she began, her voice calm yet carrying effortlessly across the hall.
“This has been a remarkable showcase.”
“But as always…”
Her gaze moved across us slowly.
“There are those who stood out.”
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
Beside me, Isabella’s hand brushed mine.
I held onto it.
“Tension looks good on you,” she murmured.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
“And so…” Mrs. Alexia continued,
“The top three designers for this year…”
There was heavy silence.
Unforgiving.
“…have been selected.”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
“First…”
Time slowed.
“Alvara Dane.”
For a second…
There's no movement,no breath.
“Go,” Isabella whispered urgently, her voice breaking through a laugh and tears at once.
I stepped forward.
Slowly.
Like if I moved too quickly… it would vanish.
The applause rose again.
Louder.
Stronger.
Warmer.
I didn’t look at the audience at first.
I couldn’t.
Because the moment I did…
It would become real.
But when I finally lifted my gaze…
I saw them.
Mrs. Hawthorne…
Smiling.
Not just proud…
Certain.
Like she had known this all along.
And Grayson…
He wasn’t clapping.
Not yet.
He was just looking at me.
That same look.
Steady.
Intense.
Like the noise, the people, the entire room
Didn’t exist.
Like it was just me.
Standing there.
Then slowly…
He began to clap.
And somehow…
That felt louder than everything else.
“Second…Isabella Soren.”
I turned instantly.
Her face…
Pure shock.
Pure joy.
My chest swelled.
She did it.
We actually did it.
She bowed, then walked toward me, each step slightly unsteady.
When she reached me, she stopped.
For a second…
We just stared at each other.
Like neither of us fully believed this was real.
Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping.
“Alvara…” she whispered.
I shook my head immediately, already smiling through the tears blurring my vision.
“You did it,” I said, my voice breaking despite everything.
Her eyes filled instantly.
“No… we did,” she whispered back, her voice trembling.
That was it.
The tears slipped free before I could stop them.
She let out a soft, breathless laugh and reached for my hands, gripping them tightly…like she needed to feel that I was real… that this moment was real.
“Top two…” she whispered, almost in disbelief. “We’re actually standing here… Alvara, we…”
Her voice broke completely.
I squeezed her hands gently.
“I told you,” I said, softer now, tears falling freely. “I told you we would.”
She laughed again, small and uneven, shaking her head.
“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” she admitted. “I thought I’d scream or jump or something but I just…”
“Can’t breathe?” I finished quietly.
She nodded.
“Yeah.”
For a moment, the world faded again.
The noise.
The lights.
The people.
Gone.
It was just us.
Just like all those nights.
All those struggles.
All those moments we almost gave up.
She pulled me into a quick, tight hug.
Not long.
Not dramatic.
But enough to say everything.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered to me.
I closed my eyes briefly, holding onto her.
“I’m proud of you too.”
When we pulled back, we were both still smiling through tears, trying…and failing…to compose ourselves.
“Okay…” she muttered, sniffing slightly. “We need to look normal.”
A soft laugh slipped out of me.
“Too late for that.”
She smiled wider.
“Yeah… way too late.”
But neither of us cared.
Because we had made it.
Together.
“Third…Celine Armand.”
A ripple of surprise moved through the audience.
I felt Isabella stiffen slightly beside me.
But then…
We both smiled.
Celine deserved it.
More than anyone knew.
She stepped forward, calm as ever…though I caught the slight tremble in her hands.
The announcement ended.
The applause lingered.
But not everyone was pleased.
I didn’t have to look far to see it.
Helena.
Leonora.
Ally.
The girls who had always been loud
Certainly they would win.
Their expressions said everything.
Tight smiles.
Whispers behind barely parted lips.
Poorly hidden frustration.
They hadn’t expected this.
None of them had.
But that didn’t matter anymore.
Because tonight…
They didn’t win.
We did.