The irony of being a model was that I'd never grown accustomed to flash photography.
As I stepped out of the limo onto the wine-red carpet outside The Rosalind, my vision was blinded by the light of a hundred cameras flashing in my face. I shook my head to clear the spots from my vision, not entirely successful as my team climbed out of the car behind me.
As per any red-carpet event, press lined both sides of the walkway and were only tamed by a series of roped bollards and a highly-paid security team. They were great for stopping paparazzi from rushing me with a microphone but couldn't do much in assisting my oncoming headache.
Lacey, my publicist, and Jess, my agent, both took only a moment to situate their floor-length gowns before turning to me. "Ready?" Jess asked.
I smiled. "Of course."
"We have to move." Lacey gently but firmly guided me forward by the small of my back. "The next car is ready to pull up."
"Remember to smile." Jess said.
"But not too much." Lacey directed. "And remember you're only giving sound bites to W and Elle."
"You got it."
One thing I'd learnt when I first started getting invited to these events was to never walk the carpet the same way. The entire role of the carpet was to create a bright and dazzling spectacle; you had to make people look. Relevancy, more than fighting for photo shoots and sponsors in the modelling world, was so easy to fall out of. Without it you were nothing. Sometimes all it took was a floral suit or a charming grin to make people keep looking for one more moment.
And it was my job to make people look at me.
Myself in the lead, our small group made our way through the throng of press. Lacey and Jess hung back to give the photographers time to capture my image. I wore a crimson suit with no tie, my shirt unbuttoned at the top to give way to some creative flair. My stylist had also insisted on gold cufflinks, which emphasized the color contrast.
The cameras did nothing to stop the press from shouting questions in my direction.
"Troye! Is it true you left Gentry due to artistic differences?"
"Tell us who you are wearing tonight, Troye!"
"Go on, Troye! Give us a smile!"
None of this was new. Lacey had spent the past two weeks plus the twenty-minute limo ride prepping me for the event. I'd become an expert in navigating the media by the time I was nineteen, but every event was different and called for a different protocol.
I posed for photos and gave my respective sound bites to W and Elle before Lacey called time. Waving a hand in dismissal at the cameras, she and Jess guided me toward the steps. The press kept shouting questions but their attention quickly shifted as Jasmine Tookes stepped onto the carpet at the other end.
"That was intense," Jess said once the cameras had shifted focus.
"It always is." Lacey agreed.
More people greeted us as we climbed higher. We reached the building's entrance and I looked over my shoulder to see the outside crowd that had congregated in the street. It looked nearly twice the size as the one from last season. These events got bigger every year.
Lacey was rapidly typing on her phone as Jess fixed a hair that had come loose from the top of my head. "Okay," she said, "Kendall's car is third in line. We wait for him to make an appearance before we enter."
Jess winked at me. "You two have been hot in the tabloids lately."
I laughed nervously. "We're just here as friends."
"Obviously," Lacey smirked as she looked up from her phone. "I am very good at my job."
I laughed again because it was true. Lacey had over ten years' experience as a publicist. She could spin any story into the desired narrative and people would never know her influence. Her natural talent for swaying the media was one of the reasons she was the highest paid publicist in Hollywood.
Three more models made their way across the carpet below before a white limo pulled up at the curb. The crowd waited excitedly to see who the next figure arriving was.
A handler opened the door and sure enough, Kendall Rose climbed out of the backseat and stepped onto the carpet to a dozen flashes and cheers from the crowd.
Any amount of celebrities could've appeared then and it wouldn't have mattered because I'd simply stopped breathing.
Because wow.
Whoever had styled Kendall was clearly at the top of their field. He'd been dressed in a floral suit of blue and gold detailing. An assortment of silver rings decorated his fingers and I wouldn't be surprised to see my reflection in the shine of his boots given how polished they were. Even from up here, I could tell the barest amount of contour had been applied to accentuate the sharp cut of his natural cheekbones.
Kendall sailed across the carpet effortlessly. He posed for photos but didn't stop to talk to any journalists, even the ones thrusting microphones into his face. Kendall simply pushed them away with a gentle ease and made his way up the steps to where my team and I waited.
"Troye," he greeted, "you looked stunning, mon cher. This colour really brings out your eyes."
He kissed both of my reddening cheeks and I smiled at him as he stepped back. "I'm happy to see you."
"I am happy to see you too," he smiled. Looking past my shoulder, he stepped forward to kiss both Lacey and Jess' cheeks. "Troye's team, I take it. It is lovely to meet you both. I am Kendall Rose."
"It's nice to finally meet you in person," Lacey shook his hand undelicately as she laughed, "instead of curating your story with my clients' in the press all the time."
"And what wonderful work you've done so far," Kendall complimented.
Jess introduced herself to Kendall as Lacey checked her phone again. "Troye, time to move."
I looked back over my shoulder. The press wasn't focused on us anymore but we had an entire crowd with the phones down below filming us. I turned back and nodded, looking to Kendall. "Ready?"
He smiled. "When you are."
Because he was my date, I allowed Kendall to lead me by the arm into The Rosalind. More flashes went off as we entered but I paid them no mind as ushers guided us through the halls.
I'd almost forgotten that Kendall had never been to one of these events before. My feelings of joy surprised even myself as we stepped into the main ballroom and Kendall's eyes widened.
"Oh my God," he said, sound comically American as he took in the sight of the elaborate room. "This is beautiful."
Round tables with Chiavari chairs were placed strategically around the room, adorned in white tablecloths with gold accents. Each table was decorated with a floral centerpiece and expensive silverware. At least two hundred guests were gathered inside already.
I laughed as Kendall gazed around in astonishment. "I forgot you haven't been to an event like this before."
"Nothing quite as elaborate as this," Kendall agreed, "although Milan comes close."
"Not bad for lowly California, huh?" I teased.
Kendall sent me an amused look. "I've seen the kind of beauty California produces. I am not shocked."
I turned my head so he wouldn't see my blush.
Jess and Lacey went to find our table as Kendall leaned in close. "Dinner doesn't start until eight. What do we do in the meantime?"
"We mingle," I whispered back. "The purpose of this event is to socialize with the designers and other models. Many of the relations here tonight lead to ambassador deals and brand association."
"You're already a brand ambassador for Armani."
I nodded. "Tonight is also about appreciation. We are one and the same in this industry. Models would be nothing without designers and vice-versa. It's about respect."
"Ah," The light twinkled in Kendall's eyes, "so you want me to schmooze the designers?"
I laughed. "That's one way of looking at it. Most of the designer's teams are here and they're often on the lookout for a new face to announce next season. It can't hurt to cross paths."
"Then," Kendall straightened up and eyed the room, "where do we begin?"
We worked the room for the next hour. As a spokesperson for Armani, I spent some time talking with the executives who were present tonight. I also introduced Kendall to different models in attendance. His eyes lit up as Ashley Graham winked at him on her way past.
Dinner was announced shortly after and I located our table. The event planner had seated Kendall and I side by side and judging by the look on Lacey's face, she'd played a role in that decision.
"How'd you go?" I asked Kendall softly.
While talking with the Armani group, Kendall had worked his own way around the room. I'd seen him talking to executives from Versace and even Tom Ford, who was sitting only two tables away from us.
Kendall grinned at me. "You're not the only one who knows how to work a room, Troye."
"Is that so?"
"This is an exclusive event. I'm making the most of it."
I swallowed my laugh as the first course was brought out.
"Troye, de la Renta is here tonight." Jess told me as we ate. "Have you spoken with them yet? I got word that it's between you and Emily Ratajkowski for the spokesperson position next season."
"I'll speak to them after dinner," I assured her.
The five-course meal was spaced out over the next two hours. Event organizers and Johannes Huebl, this year's celebrity host, gave welcome speeches onstage at the front of the room. A string quartet played music in the corner and waiters circled around with bottles of Moët Chandon.
The evening was beautiful. Kendall was great company with his sense of humor and had me on the verge of spitting out my wine nearly every ten seconds. All around us, people were standing to move around the tables and talk to one another.
"Alright," I laughed, standing to compose myself after another one of Kendall's takes on the European fashion industry. "I need to go to the bathroom."
"Would you like me to accompany you?" Kendall asked.
I shook my head and smiled at him. "You stay. I'll only be a few minutes."
I turned and headed out of the ballroom, smiling at Karlie Kloss as she waved to me in passing. An usher outside the door gestured down the hall where the bathrooms were located, and I greeted fellow models taking a break from dinner as I passed.
Noise could still be heard from the ballroom as I pushed the bathroom door open. Adam Senn nodded at me in the reflection of the mirror as he washed his hands at the sink. I smiled at him and carried on.
After taking care of my business, I decided I wasn't ready to head back to the ballroom yet. Kendall was a professional; he would be more than fine without me for a few more minutes.
Turning in the opposite direction, I headed away from the noise and followed a hallway out to a lit patio. The cool night air struck me as I stepped out, abated only by a heat lamp in the corner.
The sight outdoors was beautiful. From here, I could see the long line of the Los Angeles horizon. The city was alive and vibrant in ways I hadn't taken the time to appreciate as of late. There weren't any clouds to impede the light of the stars either. I closed my eyes and breathed in.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
I startled, but not only because I hadn't realized I wasn't alone out here.
No, I was startled for a different reason. I knew that voice. I'd spent four years trying to forget that voice. And here, now, it was coming back to haunt me.
The world tilted on its axis as I turned to look behind me, words failing to form coherently in my mind. The patio was growing smaller and my lungs were forgetting how to breathe.
"J-Jack." I stuttered, heart rate pounding at a million miles per hour.
Dressed in a tailored, deep blue Armani, brown eyes widened slightly as they swept over me like a cool breeze. With hair quaffed to perfection and the hint of sharp cologne, one hand remained tucked into a pocket where an expensive-looking watch peered out, gleaming under the warm glow of the above fairylights. The other hand had reached forward slightly but seemed to think better of it and pulled back slowly.
"Troye," he said, emerging from the shadows in the corner.
"W-what are you doing here?"
"I was invited."
"You're not a model."
"No, I'm not."
"S-so why are yo-"
"Troye, there you are! I've been looking for you."
Kendall stepped out onto the patio and immediately noticed my company. "Who's this?"
I shook my head, lost for words.
"I'm Jack Chase," My ex-boyfriend held out his hand but Kendall ignored it was he saw the state I was in.
"Troye, are you okay?" He came to my side, frowning in concern. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head again as adrenaline began to race through my bloodstream. It wasn't the time for a panic attack but I could feel my body beginning to betray me. Barely breathing, I looked up at Kendall. "Get me out of here."
Without wasting a second, except the one perhaps spent on glaring at the man before us, Kendall wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards the exit. Stumbling through the glass doors whilst trying not to make a scene was hard but I was too out of it to notice the worried looks we received.
Kendall pulled me into a side room and sat me down against the wall. He stood back as I let the crushing weight of my panic attack overtake my body, something for which I was grateful. The only thing worse than having a panic attack was someone trying to bring you out of it early. There was no choice but to ride it out to the full.
Unlike previous times, my breathing didn't choke and gasp and catch in my throat. Instead, it tightened in my chest, coiling around my core like a snake where it's death grip made it hard to release any oxygen from my mouth. I closed my eyes and leaned my head on my knees, a whimper rising in my throat.
My entire body was trembling. My temperature was unstable, feeling hot one moment and cold the next. My thoughts were running so fast that all I could see was a blur in my mind. That would definitely give me a headache later.
Somewhere far away Kendall was asking if I was alright and if he could do anything. My mouth couldn't open to give him words so I tried to shake my head. I'm sure it came out looking like a bird twitching its neck stangely the moment before it dies but I had no other way to tell him.
I'd known this day would come, even if I prayed to every divine being to not let it, but it surprised me the amount of time it took for my episode to subside. I'd have thought for sure such a situation would leave me in a state of ruin a good deal longer, but it was over in seven minutes.
"God, Troye," Kendall breathed. "Are you alright?"
There was no answer he wanted to hear. Anyone experiencing a panic attack knew that both 'yes' and 'no' were responses that gave nothing away as to your current state, but there was nothing more to say.
"I'm...breathing again," I managed.
Kendall put a hand to his forehead and paced the ground before me as though he was anxious. "What set that off? Was it that man who came up to us? It was, wasn't it? I'm going to kick his a-"
"Kendall, please don't. Come and sit with me."
Hearing the desperation in my voice, he immediately came over and slid down the wall beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulder and holding me close. "What happened, Troye?"
I shook my head and leaned it back against the brick wall and allowed my eyes to fall shut. "I don't-"
"Don't want to talk about it? I understand. We don't have to-"
"I don't-" I clarified. "-understand what just happened."
"Oh," Kendall said, brows furrowing before his eyes widened in realisation. "Oh."
"Kendall."
"That was-" He looked back and forth between me and the door. "That was him, wasn't it? The guy."
"It's been four years." I breathed. "I shouldn't be reacting this way."
"So that's the guy who...?"
"Yes."
"Oh. What was his name again. John? Jim?"
My eyes opened. "Jack."
Kendall scoffed. "More like Jackass."
I ignored what Kendall said in favour of the bile rising in my throat. Even after four years his name left a burning sensation in my mouth. It was bitter on my tongue, as though I'd swallowed acid and it was tearing away my skin and shutting down my body. The need to hurl quickly rose in my throat.
Forcing my body to calm itself, the bile in my throat eventually subsided and I inhaled deep breaths of air. The heater hadn't been turned on in this room. The room's cold temperature was heaven to my raw throat.
"Do you want to leave?" Kendall asked beside me. "We've been here long enough. Let's go home."
"I'm supposed to be present for the entire night."
"Screw the night. You can't go back there in a state like this. They'll understand, Troye."
Usually I would argue, insisting I was fine and that there was no need to leave. This time, I found myself agreeing with Kendall as I nodded my head. "Okay. Let's go."
Pulling me to my feet, Kendall went before me to open the door and entered the room first. He attempted to hide me from wandering eyes in the hallway as we moved. I wasn't ashamed of my episode but I appreciated the lack of attention.
Most of the Gala's patrons were in the ballroom still. The door we'd entered through was close to the exit and I breathed out a sigh of relief as we slipped out easily and made our way down the hallway towards the entrance hall. We were so close to the street when-
"Troye!"
Every nerve fibre was set alight as I squeezed my eyes closed, hearing pounding footsteps behind me. My breathing was starting to pick up again and I will it down. Before me, Kendall growled.
There weren't many people in the in the entrance hall. A few patrons, handlers, and a doorman, but my attention fell unwillingly on the sole person running to catch up to me.
"Troye-" Kendall started but he was too late. Eyes widened, he stared over my shoulder and I slowly turned around, dread flickering in my mind.
"Troye," Jack said, coming to a stop in front of me. "Are you okay?"
"He's not feeling well," Kendall growled, stepping forward in an effort to look intimidating. "Now, if you would excuse us-"
"I'm sorry." Jack said to me directly. "I didn't know you'd be here. I was told it was an event strictly for board members and executives. I figured I'd be the only one outside the group."
"Kendall," I said, voice barely above a whisper as I slowly looked back at him. "Would you give me a minute? Maybe hail a cab?"
Kendall looked between the two of us, clearly unsure of what to do. He looked hesitant to leave me but the pleading look in my eyes eventually won him over. He sighed, nodding as he turned around. "I'll be right outside. Call if you need me."
The French model exited the building. Jack watched him go. "He seems very protective of you."
My lungs filled with a sharp inhale of air and I looked at Jack Chase for the first time in four years. "What are you doing here, Jack?"
"My new company likes to integrate all of their departments into formal events. I'm here to build connections with other companies for clientele purposes."
"Did you know I'd be here?"
"You haven't been here for the last four. I didn't think about it tonight."
For some reason, the fact that he hadn't even thought I'd might be here tonight stung.
"My contract in London ended."
Jack stared at me. "Are you back here permanently?"
Yes.
"Maybe," I frowned. "Claire's got me working in a new position at the company."
"You got promoted?" Jack asked.
"It's not really a job." I mumbled. "At least not one that is legally defined. Claire created the position for me when I got back. I'm helping new models refine their skills now that they've been signed to the company."
"That's-" Jack started. "-Troye, that's amazing. Congratulations. I just, uh, thought you loved being in front of the camera. Isn't it less time now?"
"My tastes have changed." I said, head snapping up with a sharpness that surprised even myself. "I don't love the same things I used to anymore."
Something came over Jack's face and if I didn't know any better, I'd have said it looked like sadness. What reason could he have to be upset? It was gone as quick as it had come.
"I have to go." I said, moving to leave.
"Wait!" Jack called. I sighed as I turned back around. A guilty look came over Jack's face. "Troye, can we talk? Please?"
"I have nothing to say to you."
"You don't have to say anything." He assured quickly. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But I owe you an explanation."
"Save it." I snapped. "I don't want anything to do with you."
"What happened four years ago wasn't your fault."
A tear threatened to build in my eye. I blinked it away. Exasperated, I said, "I can't do this with you. Not now. Not ever. Please leave me alone."
"Please just think about it." Jack reached forward and snatched my sleeve. I jerked back from him like it was on fire. His sad look returned and he slowly reached out to place a business card in my suit pocket. "My number," he said, "in case you change your mind."
"I-" There was nothing to say. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to talk to him. "I have to go."
And with that, I ran out the doors. Away from Jack. Away from my past.
***
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A/N: Jack's back!