Celestine dabbed the tears from the corner of her eye and said gently, “Don’t cry anymore.”
“Alright, if I keep crying, I’ll just look awful,” Mirabelle laughed through her tears, tilting her head back.
Celestine chuckled, “Not true–sometimes tears make you even more beautiful.”
Her answer caught Mirabelle off guard, but somehow, it made perfect sense.
Mirabelle’s tears dried up instantly, her smile blooming as bright and warm as the first sunlight of spring.
That afternoon, the evening gowns finally arrived.
Mirabelle slipped into hers and checked every detail in the mirror. Everything was perfect.
Now, everyone was just waiting for tomorrow’s awards ceremony.
Meanwhile, the internet was buzzing with news about Lance’s latest masterpiece: a dress for Joanna, encrusted
With five hundred and twenty diamonds. The story
dominated the trending charts.
The dress hadn’t even made its public debut, but it already had everyone talking.
Joanna had only acted in two films over the past year–one as a supporting role, the other yet to be released. She’d already won Best Actress years ago; her nomination this year was clearly the organizers‘ way of honoring her legacy.
Out of curiosity, Celestine browsed through the photos Lance had released of his work.
His comeback seemed timed perfectly with Joanna’s return to the spotlight.
The gown was stunning–luxurious, every diamond catching the light with a dazzling sparkle.
It was obvious how much care and effort had gone into it.
Lance made sure everyone knew: this was an original, custom design just for
Joanna.
Yet as Celestine studied the dress, something about it felt oddly familiar. She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d seen it somewhere before–and not recently, either.
1/3
19:49
Still, Joanna’s gown stole the headlines, staying at the top of every trending list for two days straight.
Until the night of the Magnolia Awards finally arrived.
To stir up excitement and maximize viewership, the organizers launched a live broadcast.
Fans and viewers crowded into the stream long before the ceremony began.
On site, the turnout was record–breaking–so huge it eclipsed even the celebrity guests themselves.
The awards were held in the city’s grand concert hall, and the crowds outside clogged the streets, making it impossible for cars to get through.
Celestine rode with Mirabelle in her chaperone’s van, planning to accompany her to
the venue.
But up ahead, a white sedan blocked the only way forward, unmoved even after security cleared away the crowd.
Mirabelle wasn’t scheduled for the final walk down the red carpet–she needed to get backstage early for makeup touch–ups and last–minute dress steaming.
Denton sent someone to negotiate, but after banging on the sedan’s window to no avail, the car stayed stubbornly in place.
If Mirabelle got out and walked, dragging her gown behind her, it would take at least half an hour–not ideal.
But if they kept waiting, they’d miss their check–in window, and the organizers would simply count her out of the ceremony.
“Mirabelle, just stay here–don’t get out,” Celestine instructed. She pulled on a protective vest, got out of the car, and strode toward the white sedan.
Inside the sedan, Bob was on the phone with Zeke. “Mr. Zeke, don’t worry. I’ve got them blocked in good. Bumper to bumper–there’s no way they’re getting through tonight!”
“Well done! When this is over, you’ll be rewarded handsomely!” Zeke replied with satisfaction from another car nearby.
Lance, seated beside Zeke, shook his head. “Zeke, don’t you think this is a bit childish? This kind of stunt might work on your girlfriend, but it’s not exactly sophisticated.”
པ་་པ་་་་
Zeke bristled. “Lance, would it kill you to keep your mouth shut? At least I’m doing something. What about you? What’s so great about that dress of yours, anyway?”
“That dress‘? Zeke, you really don’t have a clue. Why don’t you just keep that mouth shut? Blocking them here might delay them, but it won’t solve anything. You’re missing the point!”
“Oh, please, Mr. Blake. Got any brilliant ideas? Gonna draw a magic circle and curse them? Don’t kid yourself–just because your dress is trending doesn’t mean Joanna cares. Stop wasting your time.”
Just as the argument was about to boil over, Joanna’s patience snapped. Her face darkened as she snapped, “Enough! Will you two stop fighting already?”
