Ms. Gray, aren't you the winner of last year's competition?" a journalist asked.
"Are you here to take the trophy again?" another chimed in.
Ms. Gray smiled modestly. "I believe everyone here is incredibly talented. They all have their own unique strengths. Last year's results don't determine this year's winners—we are all great designers in our own way."
"Oh my God, Ms. Gray is so polite!" a girl squealed from the crowd.
"Yeah! Even though she was the state champion last year, she doesn't act proud or arrogant," another person added.
"Wow, she's so beautiful!" a voice shouted.
"Wait… wasn't she third place last year?" someone else asked.
Suddenly, another wave of excitement broke out.
"Miss Sawyer is stunning today!"
"Miss Sawyer! Where did you get your dress?"
"Miss Sawyer! Miss Sawyer!"
Journalists began shouting her name from all directions.
Leah stepped forward calmly, her smile graceful. "Thank you for the compliments, everyone. My dress is from Lily Fashion Enterprise—and I designed it myself."
"Are you here for the trophy?" a reporter asked quickly.
Leah nodded politely. "I won't say I'm here just for the trophy. But like everyone else, I came to compete. And I hope I'll get the chance to win."
"Miss Sawyer, did you just say your goal is to win?" another journalist pressed.
"All the designers here today want to win," Leah replied smoothly. "I'm no exception."
"This Leah is so full of herself!" someone shouted from the crowd. "Even the champion from last year didn't brag like that!"
"Who does she think she is?" murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Leah turned a deaf ear to the whispers and kept her composure, answering each journalist's question with calm confidence.
Not far away, Emily Gray's eyes burned with fury.
Leah, that wretch.
Before Leah showed up, the spotlight had been on Emily—just as it should have been. She was last year's first-place winner. She had earned the title.
So why was everyone fawning over Leah?
Emily clenched her fists. In her mind, she had already claimed this year's trophy. After all, she had done it once—why wouldn't she do it again?
But while she stewed in silent rage, Leah had already moved on.
"Leah! There you are!"
She turned, smiling at the familiar voice. "Karen! How have you been?"
"I'm fine, thank you," Karen said, returning the smile warmly. "I hope your design this year will kill!"
"I hope so," Leah chuckled. "Well, I believe so."
Karen laughed. "I hope I'll kill this competition too! Maybe it'll be you and me—first and second."
"Leah, you know there's going to be a dinner party this evening, right?" Karen asked.
"Yeah, I know," Leah replied casually.
"There'll be judges there," Karen added. "You need to dress to impress."
"I don't really care," Leah said with a light shrug. "I've already planned to wear something beautiful. As for the judges… I believe in myself and my talent. I don't need to impress anyone. My design will speak for me."
Karen rolled her eyes. "Whatever, just make sure you show up this evening."
"I already planned on doing so."
"Really? You just saw me and you're already—" She paused, then raised an eyebrow. "Wait… am I being rude?"
"Sorry, did I sound rude?" Leah asked with a small smile.
"Yeah, you did," Karen said, pretending to be hurt. "You're breaking my heart."
Leah laughed. "Ha ha ha, you're so dramatic."
Karen laughed with her, but Mira, who had been standing nearby, couldn't help but admire Leah quietly.
Her long, platinum-blonde hair danced with the wind, catching the sunlight like silk. Her bright white teeth shimmered like sunlight on water. And her flowing, platinum dress moved in rhythm with the calm, elegant aura she carried.