In the middle of the shoot, a lot of people came around to shop physically from the walk-in store. The first floor was full of life, and the media team had to take a break because they couldn’t concentrate with all the noise. Making a mental note to inform Joel to move them to the third floor, Rina grabbed her jacket and ducked her head into the hallway, ensuring she wouldn’t run into someone before making her way upstairs.
Although her office was located on the second floor, it was at the end of the hallway, away from the major section where the clothes were being designed. The minute she got inside, she turned the lock on the door and slumped into her seat. It was a moderately spaced room, with the dominant theme being black. Even though Rina had told Joel to let her cater for the expenses of decorating her office, he hadn’t allowed it, insisting that it was a part of the perks of working for him.
So, while Rina had ordered everything she used for the space, including the small snow globe, she’d put it on the company’s tab, and Joel was more than ready to pay it up. Rina had thought she needed to pay him back somehow because even though she knew she was an asset to the fashion house, she hadn’t begun to yield anything just yet.
But now that she’d brought all the fame and orders to his doorstep, Rina didn’t feel the need to pay him anymore. She looked around, feeling at peace in the room. Black as a color had always made her feel that way.
Rina hadn’t had time to think about the news that had greeted her earlier, but now that she was alone, she allowed every bit of it to sink in.
Retrieving her phone from her purse, Rina went up to Instagram, knowing it was bound to be on her feed. She was stunned by the quality of the images, how the yellow she’d been wearing made it more vibrant and added more sunshine to her skin.
The last time she’d hit the comment button, it hadn’t yielded anything nice. So it was understandable that Rina’s finger hovered above the button, uncertain whether it was important to actually read through the comments. Different questions and possibilities coursed through her mind at that moment. What if someone had discovered she was the one?
Her hair was still red in the image, creating such an eccentric contrast with the dress, and everyone who knew her really well would know that Rina always changed the color of her hair. What are the odds that someone made the connection, and sought to rile the internet up again?
“Rina, you worry too much,'” she thought to herself, taking in a deep breath. “No one has recognized you. And even if they do, you worked your ass out to reach this point. They can’t take it away from you, because you won’t give them the power to.”
Taking a deep breath, Rina hit the button and smiled when she read the first comment in one glance. The person thought the model was stunning, her delicate back features making her want to know what it feels like walking about with such perfection. Her smile progressed into a chuckle when she read another one further down the row of comments. The guy called her a sensation, like everyone else in the country at that moment.
But what struck Rina was how he wrote that he felt this anxiety to want to know the identity of the model. People were betting that it was someone new to the industry, while others said it wouldn’t take long for her to come into the light since there was only a limit to how much you could hide. They said she needed to honor all the invitations she would get to model for other brands, to go for interview sessions, and to be a guest at fashion events.
While those things sounded really enticing, what they didn’t know was that Rina had experienced all of that before so she knew she wasn’t missing out on anything. She was not a newbie to the industry, and being in an interview wasn’t a novel idea to her.
The rest of the comments were great. Everyone had such lovely things to say about the mysterious sensation. Different pictures of the same dress from O. S. N were being retweeted and uploaded with the same hashtag mysterious sensation. Rina liked the sound of that. It made her feel good.
A call came in as she scrolled, and she mistakenly swiped it up, receiving it without actually checking who it was.
“Congratulations, Stomping Beauty,” Zayn said to the receiver, making Rina’s heart swell with pride at this accomplishment. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I have a new name now.” Rina leaned back into the chair and rotated it on the spot, going around in circles. “It’s called…”
“I know what it’s called, Rina,” Zayn said, humor laced in his tone. He didn’t know why he was doing this. But all he knew was that he couldn’t stay away anymore. “But I prefer Stomping Beauty. It’s more personal. Everybody else calls you a sensation. Have they ever seen you stomp and pout when things don’t go your way? I bet they would change their minds once that happens.”
Rina rolled her eyes. “Just because I’m in a really great mood, I’m not going to get mad at you for sending roses over to my office when I expressly told you not to.”
“That’s fair,” Zayn muttered. “Then you might have to use the same energy for the next thing that’s bound to happen.”
“What’s that?”
“Look out your window.”
Rina chuckled awkwardly. “Zayn, if this is some plot to make me…”
“Just shut up and do it.”
Rina bit her bottom lip and brought the seat to a halt, rising out of it. She raised the drapes covering her windows and looked out down, her mouth opening in shock when she saw a truck out there with her new media name on it, and balloons sticking out of it.
“It’s a little treat for you and your co-workers,” Zayne explained over the phone. And Rina wished she didn’t feel her heart drop. Half of her thought she would meet him there, waving over to her while clutching his phone in one hand.