A Step Toward Tomorrow
Country: Aurivelle
City: Cressford
Alvara
I paused in front of the mirror, studying my reflection carefully.
The morning light streaming through the window spilled softly across my room, casting a warm glow over everything…including the nervous excitement bubbling inside my chest.
I smoothed down my beige knit top, tugging gently at the fabric until it sat neatly against my waist.
After a moment, I tucked it into my olive baggy pants, adjusting the waistband slightly until it looked just right.
Brown flat sandals hugged my feet comfortably, and the canvas tote hanging over my shoulder rested against my hip.
Simple.
Casual.
But still put together.
I leaned closer to the mirror, tilting my head slightly as my small gold hoop earrings caught the sunlight and glinted softly.
Satisfied, I reached up and twisted my messy bun tighter, trying to tame the few stubborn strands of hair that had escaped.
One curl refused to cooperate.
I stared at it.
It stared back.
I sighed and let it stay.
“Good enough,” I muttered to myself.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I nodded decisively and turned toward the door.
Just as I stepped into the hallway, the front door opened.
Isabella walked in at the same moment, glancing around the living room as if she had expected me to still be rushing around my room in panic.
When her eyes landed on me, she raised an eyebrow.
“Well, look at that,” she said with a teasing smirk. “Why are you so early today?”
I shrugged casually.
“I’m always early,” I replied.
Then I pointed at her.
“You’re just always earlier.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically but didn’t argue.
Instead, she kicked off her shoes and walked further into the house.
I headed toward the sitting room where Mom was lounging comfortably on the couch. The television played softly in the background, a movie running that she was clearly only half paying attention to.
When she noticed us, her face lit up immediately.
“There you two are,” she said warmly.
She picked up the remote and lowered the volume before turning her full attention to us.
“Heading out already?”
“Yeah,” I said with a small smile.
Mom’s eyes softened as she looked between us.
“Well then,” she said gently, waving her hand toward the door, “go and have fun, girls.”
Her voice carried a quiet pride that made my chest warm.
Isabella gave her a cheerful wave while I walked over and gave her a quick hug.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “We won’t be long.”
With that, we stepped outside into the crisp morning air.
The street was already alive with the familiar sounds of the neighborhood…distant traffic, birds chirping in the trees, and the occasional chatter of people heading to work.
As we walked toward the bus stop, my thoughts drifted back to the call Clara had made the day before.
Her instructions had been clear.
The five of us who passed and will be going to the institute were not to work anymore.
She said we should use the time to get ready.
The institute bus would come pick us up at the boutique on Saturday.
Which meant we only had a few days left to prepare.
A strange mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttered inside my chest.
“Hey,” Isabella said suddenly.
I glanced at her.
“You realize something, right?”
“What?”
“All five of us made it,” she said, her voice filled with disbelief.
“Everyone who passed the virtual round is going to the institute ”.
I nodded slowly.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
“That’s good,” I said.
“Really good.”
But as the words left my mouth, another thought slipped quietly into my mind.
Helena.
She was one of the five.
The senior I had clashed with before.
The memory of that confrontation flickered briefly in my mind.
But instead of fear, a calm determination settled over me.
I wasn’t the same girl I had been then.
If she tried anything again, I would be ready.
No hesitation.
No backing down.
Isabella nudged me lightly with her elbow.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing important,” I said with a small shrug.
By the time we reached the bus stop, Isabella was still shaking her head in disbelief.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” she said.
“In just a few days… we’ll actually be at Hawthorne Luxury and Fashion Institute.”
I stared down the street as a gentle breeze brushed past us.
“Neither can I,” I admitted softly.
The thought made my chest flutter.
For months, that institute had existed only as a dream…something distant and almost unreachable.
And now…
We were actually going.
The rumble of an approaching engine interrupted my thoughts.
A bus pulled up in front of us with a low hiss of brakes.
Isabella and I exchanged a quick glance before climbing aboard.
The bus wasn’t crowded, and we quickly found seats near the window.
As the vehicle began moving again, the city outside slowly blurred into motion.
Buildings passed by.
People hurried along sidewalks.
Life moved forward as it always did.
But for us, something felt different.
By mid-morning, we had reached the local market.
The place was alive with activity.
Vendors called out loudly, advertising their goods. The scent of fried snacks drifted through the air, mixing with the fresh smell of fruits and vegetables.
Colorful fabrics hung from stalls like vibrant banners.
I tightened my grip on my canvas tote as we stepped into the crowd.
“Alright,” Isabella announced dramatically.
“Shopping mission begins.”
I laughed.
Our goal was simple.
Buy what we need for the institute .
But as always with shopping, things quickly turned chaotic.
“Are you seriously staring at that bag again?” Isabella asked a few minutes later.
I held up the oversized tote thoughtfully.
“I’m evaluating it.”
“You’re overthinking it.”
“This bag has potential,” I insisted.
She laughed.
“Potential doesn’t help you survive fashion school.”
“Excuse me,” I said, placing a hand on my chest. “Potential is everything in fashion.”
We moved from stall to stall, picking up fabrics, sketchbooks, sewing kits, and little accessories we might need.
At one point Isabella grabbed a ridiculous floppy sunhat and placed it dramatically on her head.
“This,” she declared, striking a pose, “will make me the most stylish designer at Hawthorne.”
I squinted at her.
“You look like a decorative pillow.”
She gasped.
“At least people will remember me!”
By noon our arms were full of bags.
Our energy was fading fast.
We collapsed onto a bench nearby.
“This is exhausting,” I groaned.
Isabella laughed.
“You call this exhausting? This is just the warm-up.”
By late afternoon we finally finished.
Our bags were heavy, but our spirits were high.
The bus ride home was quiet.
I rested my head against the window while the city passed by in soft blurs.
When we got off at our stop, Isabella stretched dramatically.
“I’m too tired to enter your house,” she sighed.
I laughed.
“That’s fair.”
She waved lazily.
“See you tomorrow, early bird.”
And just like that, the day ended.
Saturday arrived faster than I expected.
My phone had been ringing nonstop earlier that morning.
Isabella.
The moment I answered, she warned me she wouldn’t tolerate anyone delaying her today.
I had laughed and promised to be ready.
Now I stood in the middle of my room staring at my packed bags.
A medium traveling box sat neatly beside my bed.
Next to it was a smaller bag.
I had spent hours packing everything carefully.
Clothes.
Sketchbooks.
Personal items.
A few little things that made me feel comfortable.
I folded my arms.
Did I pack too much?
Probably.
It's too late now.
After a quick shower, I got dressed.
Beige hoodie.
Baggy black jeans.
White sneakers.
My mini leather bag rested comfortably against my shoulder.
I tied my hair into another messy bun and studied my reflection in the mirror.
Then I smiled.
“Well,” I murmured, “a designer should look like one.”
When I stepped into the dining room, Mom and Leo were already there.
Breakfast was waiting.
Mom smiled warmly.
“Good morning.”
We ate together while she gave me gentle advice between bites.
“Rest when you can.”
“Don’t forget to eat.”
“Call me often.”
“I will,” I promised.
Then I looked at Leo.
“And you, take care of Mom.”
He snorted.
“I don’t know why everyone is acting like this is some dramatic goodbye.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“You’re not leaving forever.”
Then he smirked.
“Besides, I won’t even miss you. Finally some peace in this house.”
I scoffed.
“Oh please.”
“You’ll miss me the most.”
He waved dismissively, but I caught the small smile he tried to hide.
Not long after, Isabella arrived.
Right on time.
The taxi was already waiting outside.
Leo helped carry our bags to the car.
He tried to act casual, but I could see the emotion he was hiding.
Leo has never been good at hiding how he feels.
He practically wears his emotions on his hands.
Soon Isabella and I were seated inside the taxi.
The car pulled away slowly.
Neither of us spoke.
Maybe we were too emotional.
Maybe we were just thinking about the life waiting ahead.
But the silence didn’t feel heavy.
Because one thing was certain.
When we return…
We won’t be the same girls who left today.