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Part 41 – The Fashion Competition
The week had been buzzing with excitement inside St. Mary's Academy. Posters were up, students were whispering in the hallways, and the main topic at every lunch table was the upcoming Annual Fashion Competition. It wasn't just another school event—this one attracted the city's elite families, reporters, and even big names from the fashion industry.
Anna Rosé walked through the corridors with her usual effortless grace. Heads turned, as always. She wasn't just pretty—she was magnetic. The way she carried herself, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the way her green eyes shone with quiet fire—nobody could ignore her. She didn't even need to try; her charm was natural.
But this year, there was another girl everyone whispered about—Kylie Sinclair.
Kylie was rich. Very rich. The Sinclair empire had connections in luxury fashion, real estate, and even international business. Kylie herself wasn't just known for money—she was sexy. A girl who wore confidence like second skin. High heels, fitted designer dresses, bold red lips—everything about her screamed luxury. But she wasn't cheap or attention-hungry. Kylie Sinclair never chased crowds. Instead, she gave her attention selectively, only to those she found… worthy. That made her more intimidating, more desirable.
Naturally, she noticed Nick Carter.
Nick, tall and effortlessly cool, had long moved on from his old heartbreak. He didn't chase anyone anymore; instead, people chased him. Girls fluttered around him like moths to a flame, but Nick always stayed respectful—polite smiles, a few words, but never letting anyone cross the line. That only made him more irresistible.
And Kylie noticed that.
One afternoon, while discussions about the competition were happening in the auditorium, Kylie walked up to Nick. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, drawing every eye. She leaned casually against the desk where Nick was sitting with his group.
"So…" Kylie said, her voice smooth as velvet. "Are you watching the fashion competition? Or maybe…" she smirked, touching his arm lightly, "you're waiting for me to win it?"
The whole group went silent. Nick chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'll watch, Sinclair. But I don't think you're the only star in this school." His eyes flickered—just for a second—towards Anna across the room.
Anna caught that. She wasn't even trying to listen, but her heart skipped.
She hated it.
She hated the way Kylie touched Nick's arm like she owned him. She hated how Nick didn't push her away instantly. She hated the casual charm in Nick's tone when he spoke to Kylie. And most of all, she hated herself—for caring. For feeling that sharp sting of jealousy when she had no right.
Because she had told Nick, more than once, that she didn't love him. That she loved Ethan.
A lie. A desperate lie. But Nick believed it.
So now… what could she do? Nothing.
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That evening, in the courtyard, Anna finally couldn't hold it in. She cornered Nick near the fountain.
"Why are you always with her?" she blurted, her voice sharper than she intended.
Nick raised an eyebrow. "With Kylie? She's… nice. Different."
Anna's eyes narrowed. "She's not that nice. She—she just wants attention. She's trying to use you."
Nick's voice was calm, patient. "Anna, not everyone's bad. Kylie isn't like that. She doesn't give attention to everyone, you know that. She only talks to a few people. And she's been good to me."
For a moment, Anna wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him Kylie wasn't good, that she still cared for him, that she hated every second of seeing Kylie near him. But instead, she forced a smile.
"Fine," Anna said softly, "if you think so." She turned and walked away, her heart twisting.
Nick watched her go, a frown tugging at his lips.
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*The* *Fashion* *Competition*
The big day arrived. The auditorium was transformed into a glittering runway stage, lights flashing, cameras clicking. Parents, guests, and even reporters filled the seats.
On the front row sat the special guests.
Anna's mother, Mrs. Emma Rosé, elegant in a wine-red gown, looked every inch the queen she was. The Rosé family had power, wealth, and prestige; Emma was known as a woman who could silence a room with one look. She sat proudly, waiting to see her daughter shine.
Beside her, the Carter family had taken their seats. Nick's father, Mr. Alexander Carter, a billionaire with commanding presence, shook hands with guests while photographers scrambled to capture him. Next to him sat his brother—Mr. Richard Carter, Ethan's father—equally rich, though colder in demeanor.
The Rosés, the Sinclairs, the Carters—all three families represented power. And tonight, their children would be competing, watching, and colliding in ways nobody could predict.
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Backstage, Anna adjusted her dress—a shimmering gown that seemed to glow under the lights. Kylie stood nearby, flawless in a silver designer piece that hugged her curves.
"Good luck," Kylie said smoothly, though her eyes carried a spark.
Anna gave a small smile. "You too." But inside, her blood boiled.
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The show began. One by one, girls walked the ramp, but it was clear from the start—the real battle was between Anna and Kylie.
When Kylie walked, the room hushed. She was bold, sexy, confident. The way she moved, the sway of her hips, the direct gaze into the audience—it was fire. People clapped loudly, impressed.
Then came Anna.
She didn't need to try. She stepped onto the stage, and the room seemed to hold its breath. Her beauty wasn't loud, it was effortless. The glow in her skin, the grace in her steps, the quiet but magnetic aura—she didn't need to demand attention. It was hers already.
When Anna turned at the end of the runway, her eyes briefly met Nick's. For a second, time froze. Nick stared back, his heart thudding harder than he wanted to admit.
Even Kylie noticed that.
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After rounds of judging, the announcement came.
"The winner of this year's fashion competition is…" the host paused for effect, "… Anna Rosé!"
The auditorium erupted in applause. Emma Rosé's smile widened with pride. Anna's eyes shone as she stepped forward, accepting the crown, the bouquet, the applause. Cameras flashed endlessly.
Kylie clapped too, but her jaw tightened. For the first time, she felt the sting of defeat.
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*After* *the* *Show*
Outside, in the garden lit by fairy lights, celebrations continued. Students mingled, music played. Kylie, though defeated, still attracted a group of admirers. She laughed, tossing her hair, but her eyes often darted toward Nick.
Anna saw it. And it hurt.
Later, she found Nick alone, near the railing, looking at the stars.
"Congrats," he said softly when she walked up. "You deserved it."
"Thanks," Anna replied, smiling faintly. But then she hesitated. "Nick… can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you… like Kylie?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nick looked at her, a little surprised. Then he chuckled. "She's nice, Anna. Fun to be around. But… no. I don't like her. Not the way you're thinking."
Relief washed over Anna, though she didn't let it show. She forced a laugh. "Oh. Just asking."
But later that night, when she saw Kylie laughing and placing her hand on Nick's shoulder, Anna's chest tightened again. Jealousy was cruel. Because no matter how many times she told herself she had no claim over Nick… her heart refused to believe it.
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✨ End of Part 41 ✨
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