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FIVE years ago, Maia found her new favorite hobby; outfit collecting.
It's true, every teenager has that phase in their lives where all they care about is clothes and how they look, but for her, it was different. When she got her first modeling job when she was sixteen, she was elated at the opportunity, but she also got her first taste of the fashion world that she had often day-dreamed about during her math classes.
It was for a small business, a dress-maker setting up an in-person shop for the first time in the mall near her Melbourne home, and the designer needed help with advertisement. They had devised a time and place for Maia to take pictures, and the designs of the clothing could only be described as the love-child of Teuta Matoshi's elegance and the sharper, grunge-esque aesthetic that Vivienne Westwood had perfected during her time on this Earth. Maia was entranced, and she fell in love.
That was how she found herself in her first ambassador-model position—and it's also why she's staring with wide-eyes and a covered mouth at her outfit she's going to be wearing tomorrow.
The huge box was found at the front-desk of her's and Oscar's hotel, her name written with care on a small label, paired with the words Forever proud of you! xx, Ji-Yeon right under it. An anticipated gift, but still good to see nonetheless.
She had taken out the outfit with haste, knowing only of the color and the fact that it had a skirt. Maia had presumed it was a dress, but she was oh-so very wrong.
As she eyes the two-piece now, spread out on one of the chairs of her hotel room, Maia couldn't help but be caught in the middle of wanting to squeal and wanting to disintegrate.
It was black—true to Ji-Yeon's word—with the long, form-fitting skirt being asymmetrical at the bottom and made of silk. However, the top was a lot more loud, being a matching silk corset embellished with meticulously placed rhinestones, mirroring the paintings that the night sky painted for the world so very often. Small spaghetti straps were present at the top, silver buckles connecting them to the corset itself. Additionally, still in the box were a pair of simple, black open-toed heels Ji-Yeon had added, explaining in a small notecard that they were from a new collection set to drop in February of next year.
The ensemble was simple and refined, while also eye-catching and it complemented her well—but it was also, wholeheartedly, terrifying.
When she had taken the outfit out, she realized it served as a physical reminder of the FIA Ceremony, and the fact that she'd be attending with Oscar at that. Typically, she was the one having people tag along at parties or events, not the other way around. Also, to add onto the mess, the whole 'WAG' comment Matthew had made was getting to her head.
She knew she wasn't one, as she and Oscar definitely were not dating and she definitely is not his wife either, but if people were starting to group her with such people, she couldn't help but feel the bricks piling on her back from pressure. It only worsened last night. She rarely checks Twitter anyway, but the one time she decided to, she was met with an amount of comments that could fill up four semi-trucks with no-room to spare, and every single one of them mentioned Oscar.
She meant it when she had typed, and promptly deleted, that she was not exactly cut-out for Oscar's new lifestyle. So, again, as she still finds herself hypnotized by her new clothes—a beautiful, yet dark reminder of doomsday tomorrow—she asks herself: why the hell is she here?
A knock on the door saves any potential panic from setting in, and Maia grabs the top and skirt with speed, stuffing it back into the box it came in.
When she opens the door, she sees Oscar and she questions with a huff, "What do you need?"
Oscar gives her a scoff. "I'm being honest, your attitude problem is really worrying."
"It's not a 'problem,'" she gasps, moving out of the way as he lets himself into her room. No invite needed this time, apparently.
Oscar takes a quick scan of the room, probably because he hadn't the chance the first time. "You're really organized."
"Does that mean your room is a mess?"
"Maybe," he shrugs, the tightly-fit T-shirt on his chest not sparing her the sight of his arm muscles, which was weird, because she doesn't usually get distracted by such things–especially not by Oscar. "Am I still on that 'No DM'ing' ban, by the way?"
Maia tilts her head from side-to-side as she considers. "Mm, yes."
"Jeez, okay," He shakes his head and crosses his arms. "Guess you'll be seeing more of me."
Maia slaps a hand on her forehead dramatically, saying with desperation, "Oh, a woman's worst nightmare!"
The driver gifts her with a chuckle, before explaining, "Well, since you're just so miserable, I wanted to tell you that at the ceremony, they'll call me in when I'm about to get my award, so you'll be left with the other drivers while I give my speech."
Oh. So, he wants Maia dead, is what he's saying.
"I'm gonna be left at a table with people I don't know?"
"Yep," he confirms, popping the 'p' sound at the end. He then tilts his head, looking away from her as he thinks. "Unless," his brown eyes meet her's once again. "you want to come up on stage with me. You know, let me show you off. Or, could be the other way around, since I'm quite the catch."
God fucking damn it.
Maia hated when he did this when they were kids, and she still hates it now. These stupid little bouts of confidence that make him say the craziest things. It was a lot more deliberate, she could tell, when they entered the age of 13, and she could never understand why. It was like he figured out flirting was a thing, and he wanted to use her as a test subject to test out his abilities.
"Right..." she nods slowly, trying quickly for some sort of comeback to generate in her brain as she pushes aside his comment about 'showing her off.' "Aren't you single right now?"
Oscar slaps a hand over his heart, eyes-widening. "Calm!"
"You started it!"
"Didn't have to hit that low," he mumbles, diverting his eye-contact to the carpeted floor.
Maia closes the door with a click. "I heard that." She then walks past Oscar to put the lid on the box containing her outfit for the ceremony, as she had been meaning to before opening the door. "Okay, run me through it again; who are we sitting with?" She turns to face the man, who was watching her move the box from the floor to the room's table.
He thinks. "Lewis...Checo..."
"Lewis, I know," she notes, trailing off. "Not sure if I'm familiar with who Checo is."
"He's on Red Bull, and he's the oldest of us attending the event," he summarizes. "Oh, and Max will be there as well."
"Ah, Sir Dutch Anthem himself," Maia jokes, earning a huff of a laugh out of Oscar. "I know him too."
"Would have been surprised if you didn't."
Okay, okay, this was good.
Maia has always tried her hardest to learn ways to get her panic under control before it bursts. In this case, familiarizing herself with the event and who would be attending are both decently helpful, and good enough for her.
"Is that what you'll be wearing?" Oscar points to the box behind her.
"Mhm," Maia responds proudly. "You'll see tomorrow." She stifles a small laugh, thinking about the comment Angela had made back in their dorm.
You're gonna blow Oscar's fucking socks off!
Just another game for her to play.
Oscar then throws his hands up, a small nod pairing with the action. "Alright, alright. Excited to see."
"'Excited?'"
"Yeah..." he begins making his way towards the door. "Hoping you won't be needing my jacket this time," he adds slyly, turning to face her and look her dead in the eyes as he speaks.
"Ugh," she groans at the reminder of the night prior. "Whatever. Shoo, go!" She waves him off, making him laugh, which was a sound she was re-familiarizing herself with as the days with him went on.
Oscar quickly finds himself halfway out the door, until he steps back in for a second to remind her of something she had forgotten about—"I still need it back by the way."
Maia tilts her head at the statement, but it's not long before she remembers wearing it to sleep out of pure exhaustion when they got back to the hotel, forgetting the zip-up wasn't her own. It was too cozy and warm and she hadn't thought to give it back. On top of that, it also smelled really good, probably due to Oscar's cologne, but you couldn't waterboard that information out of her if you wanted to.
"Right," she says quickly, feeling her face go slightly pink. "I'll, uh, give it later."
"Why? Missed me so much you need my jacket?"
"You know wh—" She stomps over to her bed, and snatches the black jacket from its spot next to where she had slept. It had gotten warmer in the middle of the night, and having the fabric on her wasn't ideal. "Take it," she throws the piece of clothing square at Oscar's face, but he catches it mid-air with ease. "Happy?"
"Very much so," he says, shaking the balled up jacket in front of him. "See you tomorrow."
The door clicks closed, and Maia wonders what he'll say to the lack of sleeves on her top for tomorrow night.
NOTES!
i love writing about these two so much it's literally so difficult to not make huge ass chapters because when i write for this book i always over write
xoxo, cas