Chapter 19
Sienna's POV
I sat at my desk in the studio, reviewing our accounts. Bobby's $250,000 commission sat quietly in our business account, and beneath it, deposits from those eleven new orders had been trickling in. These numbers combined meant the studio wouldn't have to worry about survival for at least a year. We finally had real breathing room.
Across the room, Reina was organizing materials for the new orders, humming to herself. The atmosphere in the studio had completely changed over the past few days—no longer that desperate sense of imminent bankruptcy, but a busy, fulfilling tension instead. We were even starting to consider hiring new people.
"Boss, these new clients are all very clear about their requirements," Reina said, looking up with excitement on her face. "And they're willing to wait. We finally don't have to kill ourselves rushing deadlines anymore."
"Mm." I made a sound of acknowledgment.
My phone buzzed. The screen showed: Marcus Bellamy.
I picked up immediately. "Professor?"
"Sienna." His warm voice came through the line. "Am I catching you at a bad time?"
"No," I set down my pen, leaning back in my chair. "What's up?"
"I have something that might interest you." There was a pause, the kind that meant he was choosing his words carefully. "There's a closed-door project showcase this Saturday afternoon at CalArts. It's being hosted by Catalyst Sports Marketing—they're scouting independent designers for a signature cleat project with a specific athlete. I sent them your portfolio, and they were impressed. They've extended an invitation."
My hand tightened around the phone. "Catalyst? A closed-door showcase?"
"That's right. This isn't a typical social mixer or networking event," Marcus explained. "It's a project presentation combined with designer evaluation. They'll showcase the athlete's biomechanical data, material samples, and design requirements—and then observe how designers respond and think. It's essentially a hidden audition."
I felt my stomach knot. "Professor... I'm not great at those kinds of events. And if it's closed-door, that means the competition is intense, right?"
"The competition will be fierce, yes," Marcus acknowledged. "But Sienna—Catalyst doesn't hand out invitations randomly. They reviewed your portfolio and decided you deserve to be in that room. That itself is validation of your ability."
Silence stretched between us. I could hear the hum of the ventilation system in the studio, and Reina's quiet movements across the room.
"And frankly," Marcus continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "I think you need this opportunity. Not just because of the studio's development. But because you need your talent to be discovered and recognized. On your own terms."
I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers against my temple. "Professor... does this project have anything to do with Hayes?"
The pause that followed felt like an eternity.
"I can't be certain," Marcus finally said, his honesty cutting through. "Catalyst hasn't disclosed the athlete's identity—that's part of their confidentiality protocol. But Sienna—" His tone shifted, became gentler. "Even if it is him, so what? You're being invited because of your capabilities, not because of any connection to him. The agency is in your hands."
I sat there, phone pressed to my ear, feeling the weight of the decision settling on my shoulders.
If I refuse, I'll never escape the shadow of 'being helped.' But if I go, and that athlete really is Hayes...
I took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll go. Thank you, Professor."
"Don't thank me. Just remember—be yourself. Show them your expertise. Let everything else be decided by fate."
---
After I hung up, I sat motionless for a long moment, staring at the phone in my hand.
Reina glanced over from the material station. "Boss, everything okay?"
"Yeah." I forced myself to stand, to move, shaking off the paralysis. "Just... a project opportunity. A showcase on Saturday."
"That's great!" She beamed, straightening up. "What kind of project?"
"Signature cleats. Athlete-specific design." I pulled my laptop toward me, opening a search bar. "Can you do me a favor? Look up everything you can find on Catalyst Sports Marketing. I need their business model, past projects, collaboration case studies—everything."
Reina's eyes lit up with the challenge. "On it."
She dove into her computer, fingers flying across the keyboard. I tried to focus on the work in front of me, but my mind kept circling back to Marcus's words.
Even if it is him, so what?
An hour later, Reina had compiled an impressive dossier. She pulled her chair over to my desk, a printed report in hand.
"Okay, so here's what I found," she began, flipping to the first page. "Catalyst Sports Marketing—they're not a traditional brand manufacturer. They're more like a creative outsourcing agency combined with a designer scouting platform."
She pulled up several documents on her screen. "Their workflow goes like this: a team or management agency presents requirements to Catalyst, Catalyst screens and selects designers, and the final decision goes back to the team or management. They're essentially the middleman."
"What's their track record?" I asked, leaning closer.
"Solid." Reina clicked through several case studies. "In 2020, they scouted a street artist for an NBA star and created a limited sneaker line called Court Vision. In 2022, they paired an independent designer with a tennis player to launch a skincare brand called Ace Glow. Both were commercial and critical successes."
"And current projects?"
"There's one active right now: codename Phoenix Project. It's an athlete performance rebuild project jointly initiated by the team management, agency team, and brand partners. Keywords are Return Narrative, Performance Reconstruction, Athlete-Specific System. The screening criteria emphasize three things: independent design style—not mass-production aesthetics—understanding of athletic functional needs, and the ability to tell the athlete's story through design."
I felt my pulse quicken. "And the athlete's identity?"
"Confidential. Protected by NDA. Only designers who advance to the final round will know." Reina scrolled through several sports forums. "But there's plenty of speculation online. Some people think it's a quarterback coming back from injury. Others are betting on a wide receiver who disappeared for two years after an off-field scandal. But nothing concrete."
I stared at the screen, at those three keywords: Return Narrative. Performance Reconstruction. Athlete-Specific System.
My throat felt tight.
"NFL has dozens of comeback stories every year," I said aloud, my voice steady even as my hands trembled slightly. "It doesn't have to be him."
Reina gave me a long, knowing look. "Boss... do you think it's—"
"I don't know," I cut her off, perhaps too quickly. "And it doesn't matter. Catalyst is evaluating designers, not personal history. If I get selected, it'll be because of my skill. Not because of... anything else."
Reina nodded slowly, though the look in her eyes said she wasn't entirely convinced.
"Even if it is him," I continued, more to convince myself than her, "I need to do this. I need to prove that I can earn opportunities on my own merit. That I don't need to rely on anyone."
"Then you should definitely go," Reina said firmly. "Show them what K&C can do."