90
The design room was quiet in a way that felt rare—like it had been waiting for Ava to return with something real.
She sat at the long drafting table, sleeves pushed up, a fresh sketchpad open in front of her. Her usual distractions—her phone, gossip, glances at Amanda—were gone. She hadn't looked at her phone in hours. She didn't even notice the group chat buzzing.
This was about the work now.
And for the first time in a long time, that felt good.
She drew a line—sharp, deliberate. A structured coat with asymmetrical buttons. She added soft fur details, then roughened the edge again. Clean, edgy, elegant. That was the theme.
"Edge + Elegance"—her pitch for the Fall/Winter 2025 capsule.
It was more than a name. It was a statement.
Ava had been all edge lately. Sharp words.
Quick moves. Fast games. But elegance? That had taken a back seat.
She realized now, painfully, that Amanda and Ericka hadn't shut her out just to be cruel—they were trying to protect something fragile, something real.
And if she wanted to be part of it, she had to offer something real too.
So she worked.
Hard.
She pulled archival silhouettes from the company's early collections and remixed them with bold textiles and daring hemlines. She fused avant-garde color blocks with sustainable fabrics. She sketched through lunch, through emails, through the growing ache in her shoulders.
And as she pinned swatches to her board and arranged digital mockups on her tablet, something in her shifted.
This wasn't about proving herself anymore.
It was about expression. And rediscovery.
Later that afternoon, Ericka passed the open door of the design suite on her way to another executive call. She paused, curious, as she caught the glimpse of a clean concept board and a rare silence in the room.
She peeked in—Ava was hunched over a tablet, lip between her teeth, eyes narrowed in pure focus.
Ericka's brows lifted slightly.
Amanda walked up beside her, holding two coffees.
"She's been in there since 8 a.m.," Amanda whispered. "Barely moved."
Ericka took the coffee and kept watching Ava, who hadn't noticed either of them yet.
"She's different," Amanda added, tone softer now. "Calmer. Like she's letting herself be more than just...a flirt."
Ericka gave a single nod. "Good," she murmured. "Let's see who she becomes."
The boardroom was unusually quiet for a Friday morning.
Amanda sat to Ericka's right, tablet ready, heels crossed, posture effortlessly perfect. She could feel Ericka's quiet focus beside her—the way her fingers tapped rhythmically on the arm of the chair, the subtle rise and fall of her breath. This meeting wasn't just routine. It had weight.
The screen at the front of the room displayed a single phrase in crisp, minimalist font:
EDGE + ELEGANCE
Fall/Winter 2025 Collection
Presented by Ava Lin
Ava stood at the head of the room, dressed with intention—a sleek black turtleneck tucked into high-waisted cream trousers, her hair pinned back in a style more polished than her usual casual glam. Gone were the flashy accessories. In their place: clarity, focus, a new kind of confidence.
She clicked the remote, and her first slide transitioned in—clean, striking visuals of textures and mood boards. A fusion of architectural lines and soft, organic fabric. Deep tones layered with unexpected contrast. Metallics that didn't overpower. Soft suede against structured silhouettes.
"I wanted this collection to represent duality," Ava began, voice steady but not overly rehearsed. "What it means to be soft in strength. To take up space without asking permission—and to do so in fabric that flows just as much as it speaks."
Amanda glanced at Ericka out of the corner of her eye. Her boss was leaning forward slightly, eyes locked on the screen—not blinking, not scribbling notes like she usually did.
Ava continued, flipping through sketches, mockups, and marketing concepts.
She spoke about sourcing from local artisans, of leveraging sustainability without compromising glam.
She mentioned social collaborations, elevated campaigns, and even runway art installations that would showcase both diversity and minimalism in striking contrast.
Thirty minutes in, she clicked to her final slide: a single dress—an asymmetrical metallic-and-chiffon piece that somehow looked both futuristic and timeless.
"And that," Ava said, exhaling softly, "is Edge + Elegance."
Silence.
Then Ericka sat back slowly, lips parted just slightly. "Damn."
Amanda blinked.
Ericka looked at Ava, then Amanda, then back again. "You did that," she said, the edge of a smile forming.
Ava smiled—small but proud. "Thank you."
Amanda cleared her throat. "It's... bold. Thoughtful. And honestly, it's the most grounded I've ever seen you in a pitch. I love it."
Ericka stood and clapped once. "Approved. Let's move this into pre-production planning next week. And Ava..."
Ava straightened slightly.
Ericka raised a brow. "You've impressed me. Twice in one week. That might be a record."
Amanda laughed softly. "Careful, she might get used to the compliments."
Ava smiled. "Well, I'm not complaining."
As the meeting wrapped and the other department heads began shuffling out, Ericka and Amanda hung back.
Ericka nudged Amanda. "What do you think?"
"I think she meant it," Amanda said, still flipping through a few mockups on her tablet. "She's showing up differently. Like she actually wants to earn trust this time."
Ericka looked back at Ava, who was quietly packing up her laptop and flash drive.
"You free tonight?" Ericka asked.
Ava looked up, blinking. "Me?"
Ericka nodded. "Just a chill girls' night. No expectations. Just vibes. Come over."
Ava hesitated for a moment, then grinned. "I'd like that."
Amanda added with a warm smile, "Bring wine."
Ava chuckled. "I'll bring two."
As she left the room, Amanda and Ericka stood in the doorway watching her go—heels clicking with a new kind of grace.