Chapter 39

Chapter 39
Nyra's POV

When we got back to the office, there were indeed some sketching materials on the desk and when I met mine on the desk, I genuinely didn't know what to do after. I could only design a mannequin; I could only design by the choice of colours and what the fabric felt like if held close. Exhaling deeply, I took my chair and sat quietly.

After minutes had passed, I felt idle, my pencil twirled in my grip and all I could do was to watch other people deeply engrossed in whatever they knew they were doing. I sketched what I thought I saw in their sketchbook, then erased and sketched again.

Some chatted while drawing on the sketchbook with ease. I inhaled and stared back at my desk. My eyes lifted again and this time they met Finn's from afar.

I swallowed, he gave a warm smile, but I forced mine, he winked and for a second I felt him deciding to come over, quickly looking away as fast as I could, hopefully another eager worker had walked up to me to cause a distraction.

And when I noticed the figure standing close to me, I used my arm to cover up the blank page before smiling warmly at the girl with brown hair who held a soft expression.

“Hey” she said.

“Hey,” I replied, meeting her eyes as I covered up the blank page of the sketchbook. No one had to know I was clueless about something as basic as sketching.

“Can I borrow your blade; my pencil keeps breaking?”

They gave us a blade?

“Oh yeah, the blade. Sure,” I smiled sheepishly before searching for the said blade. I rummaged through the desk and luckily, she found it but as she reached out for it, the blade had already grazed my skin.

“Ouch” covering up my skin the second I felt a sting.

“I am so sorry, please,” she looked around and snatched a small cloth from the next desk. “Here let's get that cleaned up”

She reached for my arm but I flinched back.

“Oh no, nothing happened, it's fine," knowing well enough how fast I had healed.

“What do you mean it's fine, your blood is all over the blade?”

“No, no, it's fine here. Must be a paint or something," I tried to say.

“Seriously?” she emphasized, reaching for my arm, I let my hand down for her to see how fine I was.

“Yeah, look I'm fine”

“Right,” she frowned slightly, as if wondering, "Thank you."

“Mhmm”

I glanced back at my arm after she had left. There was no trace of any scar and, merely looking at it, no one would believe there was ever a bruise, but I could only hope that she didn't dwell on it for too long to raise suspicions.

Shaking the thoughts off of my head, I picked up the pen and tried to draw again, but another voice interrupted me.

“I see you're having a hard time.” I looked up to see Ella.

She came over and leaned on my desk.

“Well yeah, I mean, I've only been used to fabrics," I told her.

Watching her eyes glance at my sketchbook, she had obviously seen what I had drawn and redrawn and, for someone who knew we only had some more hours before the sketches would be needed, her arched brows were valid.

“Well, if you don't know, try not to copy others… just design.”

She told me.

I couldn't tell her that I had been born and raised in a pack and just because I could style a mannequin didn't mean I could draw random designs.

“Well...

“Don't worry, I get it, artist's block, it's like you know exactly what to do, but there's no inspiration. It happens most times."

“Oh,” I could only say.

“Yeah, but I'm not sure Vogue's contract is going to wait for you to get settled. You have to draw something down.”

“Right, I could just draw whatever I think is nice.”

I rolled my eyes and Ella laughed it off.

“It's a fashion world Tina, your creations are not impossible," then she fished out her own sketchbook and showed it to me. “Here, my drawing is wearing a thick jean like velvet, and that's like…never been seen.”

“By never been seen, you mean, it doesn't even exist.”

“Tit for tat.” She chuckled. “Point is, everything comes from up here," she tapped the side of her head with her well-sharpened pencil.

I pressed my lips to form a thin line. I hadn't understood what she said, but I had gotten the concept.

I had always imagined the maids of Alpha Thorne wearing a much more decent fit, but that was all in my imagination. Perhaps I could sketch it down or the men's robe. I always knew it looked better with a rope around the waist.

I held my pencil and started on the book and in some minutes, I was done with what I wanted. It wasn't as fashionable as what everybody had in their sketchbook, but it was what I created.

After all, it didn't mean much if I didn't get selected. I was just the girl they employed yesterday.

It wasn't until one more hour did the representatives for the Vogue's arrived. They were dressed exquisitely and had the most expensive demeanor. I peered at the other design’s and somehow my palm became sweaty.

I held my breath as the tall lady turned in my direction, she picked up my sketchbook and squinted her eyes, she looked back at me and then at the design, studying it.

I had been watching her turn down more than 20 works down and only knew she picked less than five to take along with her.

“Hmm, and what are you calling this design?”

“Would it be weird if I say the first image that came to mind?” I said softly.

“Impulsive, out of this world, weird and unique.” There was a small pause after she said; “We need more fashionistas like this that can go out of proportion sometimes,” the lady remarked. “We'll take this as well.”

She said as she smiled at me and moved over to the next person.

I had been selected, but as her perfume drifted past me and her heels clicked away, a shiver ran down my spine.