19 The Runway
"[The emperor] thought so much of new clothes that he spent all his money in order to obtain them; his only ambition was to be always well dressed." --Hans Christian Anderson, The Emperor's New Clothes
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The outfit James wanted Roselle to wear was a black and white version of his current ridiculous outfit.
"I was supposed to get off stage and wear this after this outfit, but I think it'd be best if we wore it together."
"No, your highness. It's YOU that the people want to see wearing such clothes. That woman is unfit to walk a runway," said Mason.
"Uh, yeah." Roselle rubbed her back of her neck. "For once, I'm actually agreeing with this guy."
"Nonsense," James said. "I know enough about fashion to know when someone is worthy of wearing the clothes, and I know Roselle is worthy enough."
A man with a headset and walkie-talkie with him--the director perhaps--rushed into the room. "James, it's time. You coming or what?"
"Indeed." He pointed at Roselle. "But she's going to walk on stage with me."
The director sighed. "Okay, but please be there in five."
"Certainly, director." He made a sly half-smile. "But if I'm a second later, we'll have to change the definition of five minutes."
He sighed and walked out of the room.
The king turned to Roselle. "Okay, little rose," he said. "Show me your catwalk."
She sighed and decided to comply. She walked from side to side, exaggeratingly swaying her hips.
James laughed.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Was that funny to you?"
"Yes. It was hilarious. Okay, now let me tell you how to do it right this time. Straighten your back, and straighten your legs. Make sure to put one foot in front of the other. Show your curves, but be subtle about it."
She did as told. "Like this?"
"Yes, but put your chin out. Come on, girlie. Be confident in what you got."
She walked around once more. "Was that okay?"
"Well, it's good enough. Let's see your pose. Put your hands on your hips."
She did as told. "Like that?"
He sighed, and repositioned her manually. He straightened her back, and put her elbows outwards a little more. "Butt out."
"Like this?"
"Yes. Perfect. Now you're ready to be seen with me. Put on your outfit and let's go."
* * *
James and Roselle were in the back with the other models, patiently waiting for their turn. Roselle was fidgeting, adjusting her outfit, and shaking occasionally.
"What's wrong, little rose?" asked James.
"I'm so nervous. Why are we going last? I just want to get this over with."
"We're the best, so that's why we must go last."
"I hate being the center of attention."
The king snickered. "Seeing as to how prevalent you've been in the media recently, that's very unfortunate."
"You know about all that?"
"Of course I do. I know everything important. Roselle, earlier you taught me the value of losing." He swiped his hand through the sky. "Now, I'm going to teach you the value of being a star."
She peeked through the curtains to see how many people there were. There weren't thousands like she was anticipating. There was probably about two hundred big name people there. That calmed her nerves, although there were cameras that had the opposite effect.
She spotted Michelle and Dan. Boy, they were going to be surprised when they saw her on stage. Her heart dropped when she spotted another set of familiar faces: Armani Parker and Lily Strobe.
Her breathing became very rapid, and she almost panicked. One, two, three, four, five. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five, exhale.
"What's wrong?" James asked.
"Armani and Lily are here." She put her head in her hands. "I have a bad feeling that Lily is totally going to use this to roast me next time she sees me."
"Lily Strobe?" He scoffed. "Please, don't let that girl intimidate you. What does she have that you don't? Money?"
'She has Armani', Roselle felt like saying, but didn't. "She hates me. She's out to get me. I can't do this."
"Yes you can. I wouldn't be caught dead going up there next to you if I didn't believe in you. Who cares about Lily? She's too posh. And that's coming from ME."
The director was signaling the two to go on.
"It's time," James said. He kissed her on the cheek.
Roselle blushed, and touched the spot where he kissed her.
"Come on, let's go."
* * *
The two made their entrance on the stage. James was easily catwalking on the stage in tune with the music, posing and being the life of the party. Roselle tried to do her best to walk, but she mostly stayed in the back and posed. Everything she'd learned about catwalking suddenly disappeared once she was out there. Kind of like a math test.
She made eye contact with Lily, who was leering at her, crossing her arms. She looked over at Armani who gave her a thumbs up. Lily caught him and forcefully put his thumb down.
Roselle, paying too much attention to the presidential couple, lost focus, tripped, and fell on the floor. She was frozen. It was as if she couldn't get up. All the eyes that were on her were probably judging, mocking, and gawking at her. She could feel it.
James spotted her, and catwalked her way. He theatrically motioned his arms at her, displaying her, as if this was part of the show. Yeah, right. Even the King of England wasn't going to be able to pull this off.
He then took a dive on the floor as well, but on purpose. Ah, so this was his plan? That's it!
Roselle picked herself up, and she mimicked his theatrical arm-motion as well, showcasing him on the stage floor. He then got up. They went in circles around one another, posing and catwalking. They then bowed, and walked off the stage.
* * *
James dusted himself off. "You're lucky I'm a genius, little rose. It was a tough one, but I think we pulled that one off."
"You think?"
"Well, it helps that the name of this show is 'falling for fashion'."
She grinned. "You really are a genius."
He grinned back. They gazed into one another's eyes again. "I've taken quite a liking to you, Roselle."
"Surprisingly, you too."
They were almost about to kiss, but a familiar couple came backstage and interrupted them.
"Hi, Ro," Lily said, fake as could be. "Loved your show."
She flung a plastic demeanor back at her. "Thanks. I didn't know you'd be here."
"Yeah, likewise."
"So good to see you, Lily," James said. "And future President Armani Parker, I'm so glad to meet you. Congratulations on winning the presidency. That's almost like royalty, except temporary." It almost sounded like a petty thing to say, but Roselle knew that this was this man's version of a compliment.
They shook hands.
"Uh, thank you," Armani said. He looked at Roselle, his cerulean eyes gleaming the stage lights. "You did so well, Ro." He raised a brow. "How do you know the King of England by the way?"
"Long story."
He nodded. "Well, nice seeing you."
"You too."
The future president and the heiress walked off.
"So," Roselle said. "Where were we?"
"How long have you been in love with Armani Parker?" asked James.
She was startled. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play coy. I could see the electricity in your eyes when you looked upon him. The tension. The anticipation. Oh, the humanity. Sensing these kinds of things is one of my natural God-given talents."
"You're good. We've known each other since we were kids, and recently we just got back in touch with one another." She shook her head. "But he's engaged now, and I respect it."
"You're lying."
"Okay, I'm lying. I hate it. But what can I do? Have you ever been in a situation like this?"
"Oh, no. Of course not. There have been other people that have amused me, but ultimately I love myself too much to self-deprecate over peasants."
"Well, it must be nice." She looked away.
He grabbed her from behind and kissed her neck. "I want to make you feel better, Roselle. How can I do so?"
* * *
Roselle and James went back to his hotel room. It was dusk by the time they got there. The whole room was decorated white, but the marigold and apricot hues that shined from the last light of day glimmered in through the windows, and allowed the room to borrow its colors.
James softly kissed Roselle. He picked her up and placed her on the couch, running his hand up and down her back.
She straddled him and tugged on his hair, pressing his face closer to hers.
He pulled away for a moment and grinned at her devilishly. "You're quite aggressive, aren't you?" He embraced her, and slowly kissed her neck down to her collar bone. "I like you, peasant. I don't know what it is, but I like you a lot. I really do."
* * *
Roselle spent the night at James' hotel, and the entire experience was blissful and comforting. It made her forget about her shortcomings for a while.
