Chapter 1 — Reed

Reed Luxe stood off to the side, arms crossed amidst the flurry of activity, loud voices and sea of bodies. Chewing on his lip, he tapped his foot, brows furrowing as his eyes raked over the models. Something wasn’t quite right.

Come on, come on, Reed. Fix it.

Releasing a deep breath, he blinked rapidly, clapping his hands and rushing forward.

“Stop! You can’t send them out like that.”

The stage manager, Marie, turned to him with a look of surprise.

“What’s the matter, Reed?” She pulled impatiently at her sleeve, glancing at her watch. “We’ve got less than fifteen minutes.”

“Change their lip. The red is too much and it’s detracting from the outfits.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Are you serious right now? I thought you approved hair and makeup a week ago?”

Reed blew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t like it, Marie. I want it fixed. You know this is my most important and risqué collection to date—I need it to be perfect. Put the models in nude.”

She shot him a look of exasperation but shouted over his head to the three makeup artists, who were listening to the conversation. “Stop whatever you’re doing. We need fresh lips. Now.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Reed stepped back as the girls got to work with lightning speed. Fifteen models immediately lined up, resuming their seats at the counter. Reed stood and observed, holding his breath while he oversaw the transformation. Minutes later, he knew he made the correct decision. His collection this fall was inspired by machina married with couture. A combination of high-end fashion, mixed with wearable technology. It was a daring risk; however, he hoped it would pay off and cement his name as one of the world’s leading and most exciting designers. Each season, he brought a fresh twist to the theme but he knew that this was his best work ever. And he was about to showcase it, right here at Tokyo’s Fashion Week. His collection had already received critical acclaim in New York, but each market was different and he could only fully relax once the shows were over.

Marie came and stood by him, clipboard in hand. “Good call, Mr. Luxe. I can see the makeup complements the outfits a lot better now.”

He shot her a wink. “Thanks. Yeah, I nearly freaked out, but you got to go with your gut, right?”

She smiled and held up a finger, indicating that someone was speaking through her earpiece. Nodding her head, she held up her fingers and mouthed five minutes.

Once the models were lined up again, Reed’s heart started to hammer in anticipation. It was his moment of truth. Either the collection would be a hit or, if he judged wrong, it would be shredded.

He crossed his fingers and said a silent prayer as the first model strutted out onto the catwalk.

It always amazed Reed how fast the time sped by at the shows. As the models rushed to change into their new outfits backstage, he was ever present to oversee the final look before they walked back out again. It meant last second adjustments, perhaps a safety pin discreetly added here or sometimes selecting a different shoe. He couldn’t plan for anything during that time and it was incredibly stressful, but Reed savored every minute. This is what he lived for—months of work and planning, all of which came down to a crucial twenty minutes on stage.

As his final model stepped out in his showcase piece, he followed her, ten seconds behind. As soon as he came into view, the crowd went crazy, jumping to their feet with a standing ovation, cheering him on. Reed felt like he was floating on top of the world. The collection was a hit. He gave them a theatrical bow as camera flashes went off in every direction, capturing his wide grin and effervescence. Raising his hand to give his customary salute, he blew kisses to the crowd and then disappeared backstage once again.

“Reed, you did it again. They’re crazy for you.” Marie held out her arms, grinning. “Congratulations.” He stepped forward and they embraced in a hug.

“Thank you, hon. Couldn’t have done it without you.” He kissed her cheeks and pulled away, spying the reporters pushing through their way towards him. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time, superstar.” She smiled, stepping away. “Wait till we call home later to give the guys the news. Damn the time difference.”

Not only was Marie his stage manager, she was also one of Reed’s oldest friends. Along with the three others in his group, who were back home in San Francisco, they formed the thickest of friends. Reed was sad that the others weren’t here to celebrate with them, but he knew they’d be partying his success together as soon as they were back in a couple of days’ time.

The next half hour was taken up with interviews and photographs. Reed loved posing with his models and in turn the photographers had fun with the shots, enjoying the celebratory vibe in the room. Reed spotted a young reporter at the back who was struggling—each time he tried to get close, he was shoved out of the way by another reporter. He was growing increasingly frustrated at not having his chance. As the next reporter stepped forward, pen poised, Reed held up his hand and motioned for the younger guy to step forward. He gave a slight nod, smiling, when the reporter’s eyes widened in surprise.

Reed knew all about being the underdog. Growing up, it felt like all of his life was a battle to be his true self. Even now as an up-and-coming designer, it felt like he always had to watch his back—the fashion industry wasn’t easy.

Clasping his hands, Reed waited patiently as the guy made his way to the front. A quick glance at the badge on his shirt, revealed his name and press company.

“Mr. Luxe—”

“Please, Daichi, call me Reed. Otherwise I’d feel like you’re talking to my father.”

The reporter, Daichi, laughed and adjusted his pen. “Arigatou gozaimasu, thank you very much, Reed. Congratulations. I think it’s fair to say that your collection is a runaway success.”

Reed nodded. “Thank you. It’s always nerve wrecking but I have a wonderful team behind me, so it’s a joint effort and win.”

“That’s very humble of you. May I ask what inspires you? What makes you get up in the morning and dream up your new creations?”

Reed thought for a moment about his very honest and poignant question. “I had a lot to prove when I first started out, but my journey to get to where I am today, pushes me forward each and every day to do better.” He smiled. “It sounds cliché, but each day is a new beginning, a chance to wipe the slate clean. I embrace this and grab the bull by the horns, always looking for new experiences.”

Reed looked over his shoulder to see Marie pointing to her watch with a raised eyebrow. He realized he was almost out of time and needed to wrap up the interview. He gave her a slight nod and refocused on his interview. “I’m inspired by art, by the trinkets I may find in a street market, by the people surrounding me as I sip coffee on a sidewalk. We’re all unique. No one fits one mold. And my job as a designer is to portray beauty and individuality through my creations. If you look at every piece, there is a common thread that binds the collection together, yet they each stand out on their own.”

The other reporters were furiously scribbling down his message, but Daichi just stared at Reed with open admiration, his eyes glistening. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

Reed had a feeling he knew why. From Daichi’s demeanor, he would almost bet that the young reporter was a closeted gay man. Same as his best friend, Kellen. “My pleasure.”

Reed spent the new few minutes answering more questions until one by one, the reporters were ushered off backstage, and the next show began its preparations.

“What do you say we head back to the hotel, get changed and then hit the spa?” Reed shoved his fingers in front of Marie’s face, his lips curling in disgust.

Marie leant backwards, her brow wrinkled. “Ummmm…why are your fingers up in my face?”

“Can’t you see?” He wriggled his fingers. “Look at the state of my poor cuticles. Ugh. They’re in desperate need of some serious TLC.” He lowered his hand. “And, while we’re there, I think we could do with some deep tissue massages as well.”

Marie closed her eyes, groaning in pleasure. “A massage sounds heavenly.”

They stepped into the waiting car and chatted easily on the way back to their hotel. Reed was still buzzing with pride from the show and the incoming calls were already starting to light up their phones.

Not long afterwards, they arrived at the Mandarin Oriental and made their way to their separate suites. Once inside his room, Reed sat on the sofa and pulled out his phone to check his social media. He fired off responses and replies to messages on various accounts. And, of course, he got caught up on reading his glowing reviews, one of his favorite parts about launching a new line. Half an hour later, satisfied, he finally lowered his phone and flopped back against the sofa, a huge smile on his face.

I really am living the dream.

He was sure Marie would be ready any minute now and figured he better get moving. Turning to his left, his attention was drawn to a parcel, which was left on the side table. Caught up with his phone, he hadn’t noticed it before, but now he moved across the room and picked up the package. It was surprisingly light as he shook it around, with only a slight movement coming from inside.

Curious, Reed moved back to the sofa and sat down. He carefully opened the origami style gift wrapping which revealed a white box inside. Lifting the lid, he found a small teddy bear nestled amongst the blue tissue paper. Puzzled, he picked up the bear, looking for a note or card, but when he couldn’t find anything, he almost wondered if it was delivered to him in error. Just about to call guest services, Reed’s eye caught a small rolled up paper tucked into the slim collar around the neck of the bear. Gently, tugging it away, he opened it to see a typed written message, which only read:

Open Me, Reed.

Reed felt an odd shiver down his spine. This was giving him a weird feeling. Turning the bear over, he saw the concealed zipper running down its fur back. Curious now as to what was inside, he pulled it down and flattened it apart to inspect the contents. Reed’s heart began to accelerate as the bear appeared to be stuffed with folded Polaroid photos.

A slight tremor ran through his hands as he carefully pulled out the photos, smoothing them out.

As he looked at them, his muscles tensed and he could feel every hair lifting on the back of his neck.

The pictures were taken inside his bedroom, with what looked like this same teddy bear. Sitting in the middle of his bed. The second photo had the bear again, same pose, except red liquid was splashed across the front.

Blood.

Turning the photo around, he saw a typewritten message stuck to the photo:

Reed, if I can’t have you, then no one else will. We’re soulmates, when will you realize that? I’m getting impatient now. Don’t upset me…I want you.

Reed dropped the photo as if it burned him, his hand flying to clutch at his throat. This was the third parcel he’d received in two months, with the same font and typewritten message, though the last was only two weeks ago. He’d ignored it, thinking it was just a stupid and crazed fan, but this was much worse. His stalker was obviously pissed off. What scared Reed the most was that this crazy person was in his house. His skin crawled with fear.

A loud ringing came from his phone and Reed nearly jumped out of his skin. Swiping right, he pulled it to his ear, still in a daze.

“Oh hey, can I borrow your charger again?”

Reed vaguely registered Marie’s voice in the background.

Murder. Suicide.

“Reed, are you there?”

Everything started to spin. The adrenaline of his show, the fear that was coursing through his blood, the thoughts of his stalker spiraling out of control—it suddenly became too much.

“Reed, answer me. Is everything okay?”

Reed was aware of his arm going limp as the phone slipped and fell from his hand.

His eyes began to flicker and he had trouble catching his breath.

More spinning as if he was being pulled down, deeper and deeper.

And then everything went black.