From Hope To Reality
Country: Aurivelle
City Cressford
Alvara
I sat at my desk, fidgeting with the edge of my chair for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon.
My fingers traced the smooth wood restlessly, tapping, stopping, tapping again. The silence in my room had become unbearable.
Across the room, Isabella lay sprawled on my bed, her arms tucked behind her head as she stared blankly at the ceiling.
Neither of us had spoken for several minutes.
The only sound in the room was the faint vibration of my laptop and the occasional rustle of the curtains as a soft breeze slipped through the half-open window.
Five days.
Five long, agonizing days.
“I can’t believe it’s been five days,” Isabella finally said, her voice breaking the silence.
I glanced at her.
She still hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed, but I could hear the nervous tension in her voice.
“Five days,” she repeated quietly. “And we still haven’t heard anything from the institute.”
She turned her head to look at me.
“I’m nervous, Alvara,” she admitted softly.
“What if something went wrong?”
Her words twisted something deep in my stomach.
I exhaled slowly and rubbed my temples, trying to calm the anxious thoughts that had been circling in my head all week.
“I know,” I said quietly. “I’ve been refreshing my email like a crazy person.”
I gestured helplessly toward the laptop on my desk.
“Every ten minutes I check again… just in case.”
Isabella let out a small sigh.
“Maybe they’re still reviewing everything,” I continued, trying to sound optimistic.
“There were a lot of applicants. Maybe the committee needs more time.”
My voice trailed off before I finished the thought.
Because another possibility hovered in the back of my mind.
A possibility I refused to say out loud.
Maybe we didn’t make it.
Maybe we weren’t good enough.
Maybe all the work, all the hope, all the sleepless nights designing and preparing our portfolios had been for nothing.
Isabella suddenly pushed herself up on her elbows.
“Stop,” she said firmly.
I blinked.
“Stop overthinking,” she added.
Her tone softened slightly.
“It doesn’t help.”
She paused, then sighed.
“But… yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I’m scared too.”
I gave a weak smile.
“Me too.”
My stomach twisted nervously.
The past five days had been torture.
We had poured everything into those applications…every sketch, every design, every tiny piece of creativity we had. The Hawthorne Luxury and Fashion Institute wasn’t just any school.
The best in the country.
Getting in would change everything.
Our futures.
Our careers.
Our lives.
And now all we could do was wait.
Suddenly Isabella’s phone buzzed loudly beside her.
The sound made both of us jump.
She grabbed the phone quickly and glanced at the screen.
Then her eyes widened.
“Alvara,” she whispered.
Something in her voice made my heart skip.
“What?” I asked quickly.
She looked up at me slowly.
“It’s Sylvie.”
My chest tightened instantly.
Sylvie had applied too.
“What did she say?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Isabella swallowed.
“She says… the results are out.”
For a moment I just stared at her.
My brain refused to process the words.
“The results… are out?” I repeated slowly.
Isabella nodded.
“She said the list has been posted online.”
My heart started racing.
“We should check,” she added nervously.
I blinked.
“Now?”
“Yes, now!” Isabella said suddenly, jumping off the bed.
The mattress bounced behind her as she hurried across the room.
“Come on!”
My hands suddenly felt clumsy as I turned toward the laptop.
My heart was pounding so loudly I could practically hear it.
The screen glowed in front of us as I opened the institute’s website.
The page loaded slowly.
Too slowly.
“Why is the internet suddenly so slow?” Isabella muttered impatiently.
“Relax,” I said, though I was anything but relaxed.
Finally the results page appeared.
A long list of names filled the screen.
Fifty selected designers.
Fifty chances.
Fifty dreams.
My breath caught in my throat.
“Scroll,” Isabella whispered.
My fingers hovered over the trackpad.
Then slowly… I began to scroll.
Name after name appeared.
The list moved downward gradually.
My eyes scanned each line carefully.
Then suddenly…
My heart stopped.
“Alvara Dane.”
For a second I couldn’t breathe.
The letters blurred as tears filled my eyes.
My name.
My name was there.
My chest tightened as emotion surged through me.
“Wait,” Isabella said quickly.
Her finger pointed at the next line.
“Look.”
I blinked and forced my eyes to focus again.
Just below my name…
“Isabella Soren.”
We both froze.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us spoke.
The numbers beside our names caught my attention next.
Ten.
Eleven.
We had both made the top fifteen.
“Is this… real?” Isabella whispered.
I couldn’t answer.
My hands started shaking as I scrolled to the bottom of the page.
A message appeared beneath the list.
“Selected designers will depart for the Hawthorne Luxury and Fashion Institute on Saturday, one week from today. Please prepare accordingly.”
The words felt surreal.
One week.
We were actually going.
Isabella grabbed my arm.
“Refresh the page,” she said quickly.
“What?”
“Refresh it! Just in case!”
I laughed shakily and clicked the refresh button.
The page was reloaded.
The same names appeared again.
Still there.
Still real.
“Alvara Dane.”
“Isabella Soren.”
My heart exploded with joy.
“No way…” Isabella whispered.
Her voice trembled.
“This is real.”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
A scream burst out of me…half laughter, half shock, pure happiness pouring out all at once.
Isabella screamed too.
We both jumped up, grabbing each other and spinning around the room.
“We made it!”
“We actually made it!”
Our excited shouting echoed through the house.
A moment later, hurried footsteps pounded down the hallway.
The door burst open.
Mom rushed in first, her eyes wide with alarm.
Leo followed right behind her.
“What’s happening?” Mom asked breathlessly.
“Are you two okay?”
I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Instead, I pointed at the laptop screen with a shaking hand.
Mom stepped closer and looked down.
Her eyes scanned the names.
Then suddenly her hands flew to her mouth.
Tears filled her eyes instantly.
“Oh… Patrick,” she whispered softly.
Her voice trembled as she sat down slowly on the edge of my bed.
“I hope you’re seeing this.”
She wiped at her tears but more kept falling.
“Our little Alvara,” she murmured. “Our little girl of yesterday… going to the best fashion school in the country.”
Her voice cracked.
“Please keep watching over us.”
My heart squeezed painfully.
I walked over and gently took her hand.
“Mom,” I said softly, smiling through my own tears.
“Stop crying.”
She looked up at me.
“This is a happy moment, remember?”
She sniffed and wiped her cheeks again.
“Yes,” she said with a small laugh.
“Tears of joy.”
Then she turned toward Isabella.
Without hesitation, she pulled her into a warm embrace.
“And you,” Mom said softly, holding her close.
“Your mother must be so proud of you too.”
That was all it took.
Isabella completely broke down.
She buried her face in Mom’s shoulder and cried openly.
Mom gently patted her back.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured softly.
“Let it out.”
I stood beside them, wiping my own tears.
The room felt warm and full of love.
For the first time in days, the heavy weight of uncertainty lifted from my chest.
Everything felt… right.
After a while Mom finally sighed and wiped her face again.
“That’s enough crying,” she said gently.
She stood up and left.
A few minutes later she returned holding a small card.
I frowned.
“Mom… what’s that?”
She smiled shyly and handed it to me.
“It’s the money I’ve been saving,” she explained.
“From the allowances you’ve been giving me.”
My eyes widened.
“You saved it?”
She nodded.
“I knew a day like this would come.”
Her smile grew warmer.
“I want you and Isabella to use it. Buy clothes. Shoes. Handbags. Anything you need.”
She squeezed my hand.
“My children shouldn’t look different from anyone else.”
Tears pricked my eyes again.
“Mom… I can’t take this,” I protested softly.
But she shook her head.
“I insist.”
Her voice was gentle but firm.
“You’ve both earned it.”
I hesitated.
Then finally accepted the card.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Isabella stepped forward and hugged Mom tightly.
“Thank you so much,” she said between tears.
Mom hugged her back.
Then Leo finally spoke from the doorway.
“Are you two done with your dramatic crying?”
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him instantly.
He caught it easily.
“Oh, so that’s how it is?” he laughed.
“Alright then.”
He crossed his arms with a smug grin.
“Congratulations, you two.”
He pointed toward the laptop.
“Two sisters at Hawthorne Luxury and Fashion Institute.”
He shook his head.
“My friends are going to be insanely jealous.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t know much about fashion,” Leo continued, “but I do know your situation just went from good to… best.”
Isabella smirked.
“You know,” she said, “this is the first time I’ve heard you speak like a normal human being.”
“Exactly,” I added.
Leo raised his hands dramatically.
“Fine! Clearly nobody rates me in this house.”
I grinned.
“Does anyone rate you anywhere else?”
For a second there was silence.
Then we all burst into laughter.
The room filled with warmth and joy.
And in that moment…
Everything felt perfect.