Chapter 201 Shock
Chapter 201 Shock
Sophia's POV
Lisa stared at the stunning finished piece on the dress form and instinctively took half a step back.
"Sophia, this dress is too special. You should be the one wearing it." She glanced down at her slightly full figure and plain face, her eyes full of insecurity and unease. "I'm not pretty, and my body isn't great either. I could never pull off something this artistic. If I wear it, I'll just ruin everything you've worked so hard for..."
I turned around, my cool gaze settling on Lisa.
"The theme of this piece is 'Rebirth,'" I said, my voice steady and certain, carrying a weight that cut straight to the heart. "It doesn't need a perfect supermodel body to make it work. The worn fabric, the rough stitching, those imperfections are the whole point. Its soul lies in the life force that comes from breaking down and rebuilding."
I took the dress off the form and held it out to Lisa, my tone leaving no room for argument. "You had the nerve to step in front of me earlier. Are you telling me you don't have the courage to wear your own creation?"
Lisa flinched. She met my cool but unwavering eyes, and whatever fear had been holding her back seemed to burn away completely.
"I'll wear it!" Lisa set her jaw and gave a firm nod.
"Go change." I pulled open the makeup bag nearby, my expression calm. "When you come out, I'll do your makeup."
A few minutes later, Lisa came out in the dress. The irregular silhouette cleverly worked around her figure's weak points, but her bare face still lacked presence.
I had her sit down and picked up a makeup brush. I used cool-toned eyeshadow to deepen and define her eyes. Then I picked up a fine-tipped eyeliner and drew several thin lines along the corners of her eyes and across her cheekbones, like the stitching on the garment, almost like tribal markings. Finally, I added a touch of dark red matte lip gloss.
The Lisa in the mirror was transformed. Her once ordinary features now held a raw, fractured kind of beauty, wild and striking, a perfect match for the abstract patchwork she was wearing.
"Remember," I said, giving her shoulder a pat, my eyes steady. "Up there, it's just you and your work."
The runway show began.
The second elimination round was far more brutal than the first. Without expensive fabrics to fall back on, a lot of the designers' weaknesses were laid bare.
One model walked out in a dress made from an old button-down shirt. She hadn't even hit her mark before the judges lit up the red light.
"Completely generic, zero originality. You just cut an old shirt shorter. That's not rebirth, that's what a tailor does. Eliminated!"
Then another model took the stage. Her outfit was busy and over-altered, but the structure was a mess. Every step she took made it look bulkier.
"This design shows no understanding of the human body whatsoever. It highlights every flaw and has absolutely no wearability. Eliminated!"
The judges showed no mercy. Red lights kept flashing, and the sharp critiques pushed the tension in the room to a breaking point.
"Next group, B Zone, Number 12."
The music shifted, and Vivian strutted onto the runway in four-inch heels like a proud peacock. She was wearing the gown she'd reworked from an old silk evening dress. The design itself was actually decent, clean lines, well-cut, with pearl details that made it stand out among the other upcycled pieces.
Vivian had gone all out for this moment. She'd done a full, elaborate ball-ready makeup look and had secretly put on her own diamond necklace and earrings, practically screaming "I have money" without saying a word. She walked to center stage, struck what she thought was her most stunning pose, and even shot a pointed glance in my direction.
But Joseph at the judges' table didn't even look up.
Richard pushed his glasses up and pressed the low-score button without hesitation, his brow furrowed.
"The garment itself has potential, but the model's presentation is a disaster." Richard picked up the mic, his disappointment completely undisguised. "The theme is Rebirth, about giving new life to discarded things. And yet this model is wearing expensive diamond jewelry with a full glamour makeup look. The over-the-top luxury completely contradicts the entire concept of upcycling."
Another judge added sharply, "The model has completely overshadowed the work. She's taken a piece with a genuine environmental message and turned it into a display of wealth. The integrity of the garment is destroyed by this jarring combination. Failing score."
A painfully low number flashed on the screen.
The smile on Vivian's face froze. Her eyes went wide with disbelief, her face cycling through shades of pale and red. Her carefully chosen makeup and jewelry, the things she'd been so proud of, had actually dragged her score down?
A few barely-suppressed laughs rippled through the crowd. Vivian's cheeks burned as if she'd been slapped in front of everyone. She bit down hard and slunk off the stage.
"Next group, D Zone, Number 7."
The lighting in the venue shifted suddenly. A sharp, cold white spotlight hit the entrance to the runway.
Lisa took a deep breath and walked out with steady steps.
The moment she appeared, the entire venue went silent.
The abstract patchwork she wore, patchy in color, covered in cracked seam lines, exploded with visual power under the lights. The stitching-like markings drawn at the corners of her eyes echoed the embroidery on the garment. The dark red lip color transformed her once-timid face into something untamed and fierce.
She was no longer the quiet, hesitant little assistant. She was a warrior risen from the ruins.
The unique silhouette perfectly concealed her figure's weak points. The rough denim, the tacky floral prints, the hard leather, stitched together through my embroidery, came together into something with a striking post-modern artistic beauty.
The live stream chat, which had gone quiet for a moment, exploded again.
"Oh my god, is that seriously the pile of scraps from before?!"
"That makeup is insane! It goes perfectly with the outfit. THIS is what rebirth actually looks like!"
"There's so much life in this! I can't believe I'm feeling something from a bunch of old clothes!"
Lisa walked to the front of the runway and looked directly at the judges' table.
Richard shot to his feet, clapping hard. Joseph straightened in his chair, and a look of undisguised admiration crossed his face.
"Flawless! This is what true deconstruction and reconstruction looks like!" Richard's voice was shaking as he held the mic. "You didn't hide the wear and tear in these fabrics, you used embroidery to turn that brokenness into art. And the way the makeup and the clothing work as one complete vision is the finishing touch that makes it all come together. This is the most thematically true and most soulful piece we've seen today!"
With Richard's words still in the air, the score on the screen began climbing fast.
No surprise, another stunning high score.
The whole venue broke into thunderous applause that went on and on.