Chapter 24 Cover Girl Wars I
\-Celeste-
The moment I stepped into the film studio, my breath caught.
Rows of track lights shone from the ceiling, flooding the space with a fluorescent glow. A pop track boomed through the hidden speakers, synchronizing with my heartbeat.
Makeup artists moved swiftly, boxes in hands like briefcases. Stylists circled racks of designer gowns that shimmered under the lights. Cameras were set up, while crew members hurried about, setting up props and adjusting backdrops until each set was ready.
Across the room, the other features for the magazine were already in their booths, assistants rushing around them with makeup brushes, hair clips, and clothes.
"Five minutes until the first shoot!" a voice called out.
A monitor flickered on nearby, showing live previews of the camera's lens. The thought of my own face filling that screen made my stomach flutter. It felt unreal, like stepping straight into the behind-the-scenes of my favorite movie, only this time... I wasn't the audience.
I was the star.
"This is so exciting!" Denise squealed, barely containing her excitement.
At that moment, a middle-aged man called my name as he walked over. He had fine gray hair, wore a navy blue polo shirt, and grey slacks, carrying the air of someone who belonged effortlessly in the middle of a magazine shoot.
"Grant Miller," he said, extending his hand. "Editor-in-Chief of Legacy Magazine. Thank you for accepting on such short notice."
I shook his hand with a small smile.
He continued. "The truth is, the cover wasn't set until two days ago. But the moment I heard about the buzz you've been creating, walking away from the Ashford name to focus on your own business, I knew we had to have you. It's bold, it's fresh, and it's exactly what Legacy should stand for."
"Right." I nodded awkwardly. Of course, it was the only reason anyone knew me.
He turned and gestured toward a wide booth set apart from the others. Bright vanity lights framed an oversized mirror, a long rack of gowns glittering in the spotlights, and an entire team waiting.
"As our cover star, you get the first call," Grant said with a knowing smile. "We'll do the shoot before the interview, so get settled in. Ask for anything you want."
"Thank you for having me." I murmured, suddenly feeling like a fish out of water.
With that, he turned and walked off, snapping instructions at a group of crew members.
I eased into the chair, settling in as the hairstylists and makeup artists began their work, their presence alone making it clear I was the star of the room. In the middle of the transformative chaos, an assistant came in with a list of questions for the interview. Denise and I reviewed them together, making sure there were no unnecessary questions.
Even with that, I couldn't shake off the nervousness in my chest, and Denise didn't fail to notice.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine, we've seen the questions." She had reassured, gently squeezing my hand.
The glam team did their jobs to perfection, making sure my hair and makeup was fit for a magazine. When I looked in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize myself.
Then we began the shoot. A wardrobe change later, and all the nerves disappeared.
Denise went off to get us some coffee while I prepared for the next shoot, this time more relaxed and even excited. I guess I got too happy because things suddenly took a wild turn.
I noticed some members of my team glancing at their phones, then back at me. Next, two or three models walked past my booths, pausing briefly before whispering and walking away.
What was going on? I wondered.
Then Denise returned with the same horrific expression. They all stared back at me like someone had died, and I wasn't supposed to know.
"What's going on, Denise?" I demanded, my heart racing in my chest.
Her lips parted to speak, but she hesitated and I couldn't take it.
"Tell me right now, or I'm walking out of here!" I threatened. That did it.
Slowly, she handed me my phone, telling me not to freak out.
As always, it was an article. Just that, this time, it wasn't about me, it was Lucien. He had been spotted having breakfast at a fancy restaurant with Bianca Campton.
Even worse, there were photos of them holding hands and smiling at each other like lovers. At that moment, my chest went tight with fury, blood boiling till I could feel the warmth on the surface.
Was this payback? How could Lucien have gone so low?! My mind reeled. I didn't know what else to think.
Quietly, I turned to the mirror. I stared at my reflection, letting the tense silence fill the booth as a small sigh escaped my lips. I had to think straight, past what the media had painted for me to see.
For all I knew, it was probably a big misunderstanding. After all, I had been in the same situation a few days back. I reminded myself.
"Then why were they holding hands? Why was he laughing with her like that? He's never laughed with you Celeste. Don't make excuses for him." The voices in my head screamed, and they were right.
Never for once had he laughed like that in my face. Once again, my again grew to the surface, but I wasn't going to let him ruin this for me.
"Hair and makeup, I'd like an extra touch up please."
When they were done, I got up to return to the shoot, but my phone beeped with a message. It was the same number as two
days back.
He had left my "Who is this?" message hanging, only to reply with something more unnerving.
"Are you ready to know the truth?"
My stomach sank, my pulse ringing in my ears as I stared back at the screen. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the truth, or maybe I was scared to know.
I didn't get the chance to reply before my phone began to ring. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the unknown caller ID.
Without a word, I walked away, towards an empty dresser-a quiet corner away from the chaos. My heart pounded in my chest and my stomach churned as I mustered the courage to finally answer the call.
This was it. I was finally going to know the truth about my mother.
"He-Hello?" I stuttered, gripping the phone tight against my ear.
Silence followed.
I waited for the briefest moment, but before I uttered another word, a buzz of static echoed through the line, loud and sharp, forcing me to pull it away from my ears. And then, they hung up.
My heart raced as I stared in disbelief. "What the actual hell? Where are they just messing with me?"
An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I straightened myself, thinking, "Could today get any worse?"
Just before I walked out, I heard some ladies gossiping, and I couldn't help but listen.
"... Honestly, I don't think she's cover girl material. Legacy is a top-tier lifestyle magazine for the elite. Not for prodigal heiresses," one said while the others laughed.
My face flushed with embarrassment, they were talking about me.
"Go take that up with Grant. Apparently, it was her or that failed nepo-baby actress, Velet Price. But then, she'd been in the tabloids all week, and Grant thought, 'why not make money off this?' It's pathetic if you asked me."
My body trembled as forced back tears, clenching my jaw till it hurt, yet I stayed put, like I was yearning to be hurt.
"She was better off being the Ashford Heiress than some nameless baker."
And I couldn't take it anymore. I yanked away the curtains and the four women froze in place, two of which were from my own team. Their eyes went wide with shock and I could practically see the color drain from their faces.
I scoffed, folding my hands across my chest, letting the silence sit. "Keep talking. It doesn't change who or what I am. And both of you," I said, shooting my two junior assistants a glare. "I don't want to see you anywhere near my booth." With that, I turned on my heels and strutted off, head held high.
"Are you alright?" Denise began in a concerned tone as I took my seat.
"I'm fine, Denise," I replied sharper than I intended. "I'm not a time bomb waiting to explode."
"Well, you do sound like one." She murmured.
I sighed. "I just heard a few assistants gossip about me. Apparently, I'm only here because I've been stuck in the top five searches these past weeks. They don't think I deserve to be on the cover because I'm no longer the Ashford Heiress." I spat, sinking further into my seat.
Suddenly, I wanted to disappear, to end this entire thing, but I was only getting started.
"Don't listen to them, Celeste. You're as worthy as any other person that has been on the cover of this magazine. And it doesn't matter why they picked you." She paused, letting it sink in. "I'll hold your hands while I say this, you deserve this." She said firmly, eyes wide with determination.
She had done it again. Coming through for me like the good friend she was.
"Thank you, Denise. Really, I mean that." I gently squeezed her hand.
"Anytime. You're the most important person in this room, and you'll be treated as such! So let me know who I should fire next, and they'll be out of here."
I chuckled at that, but some moments are meant to push you to your limits, to see how far you can go before you snap. Today felt exactly like that.
I was barely settled when the steel doors swung open. The chatter, the cameras, even the music seemed to vanish. Sunlight cut across the room like a spotlight, and for a moment, everything froze.
And then she appeared.
Bianca.
She didn't just walk in, she moved like she owned the room. Behind her was a team of stylists, assistants, and photographers, all perfectly in sync. The room slowed down, heads turned, and every eye followed her.
My stomach tightened. My heart skipped and all I could think was,
What was she doing here?