Alexander Fashion House, AFH. Appeared like glass royal palace in the center of the city.
"Who swapped my dress?"
Piper Reese's voice cracked through the backstage chaos.
Dozens of girls turned.
She stood frozen, holding a gown she had never seen before. The zipper was broken. The fabric was entirely different. This wasn't hers.
Her dress — the one she had borrowed, begged for, and and protected like treasure is gone.
The audition at Alexa Fashion House was scheduled to start in twenty minutes.
And she had just lost everything.
Across the city, Alexander Cole signed a contract that would ruin a man's career.
"Terminate the partnership," he said without looking up. "He hesitated. I don't invest in hesitation."
"Yes, Alex," Silas replied immediately.
At twenty-nine, Alexander was the youngest billionaire in the American fashion industry. Cold. Precise. A man whose silence intimidated boardrooms.
The son of Sebastian Cole — founder of Cole's Empire.
People didn't cross Alexander Cole twice.
Today, he had no interest in auditions.
Yet somehow, he would remember this one.
Backstage at AFH, panic sets in for Piper's.
"Looking for this?" a soft voice whispered behind her.
Piper turned.
A tall brunette held her original gown loosely between two fingers.
"You should know", the girl smiled sweetly, "AFH does not hire charity cases."
The gown slipped from her hand and dropped into a puddle of spilled coffee.
Gasps eruptedd.
Piper stared at it.
White silk. Ruined.
Her stomach twisted.
Rent was overdue.
Her younger brother, Jake Reese was counting on her.
This audition wasn't about fame.
It was survival.
She bent slowly, picked up the ruined dress… and exhaled.
No tears.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
"If you're done," Piper said quietly, "I'll take that back."
The brunette laughed and walked away.
Tick.
Tock.
"Contestant number twenty-one!" a judge's voice called from the stage.
Piper looked down at the ruined silk.
Then at the broken-zipper replacement dress in her hands.
Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror — nervous, shaken… but not defeated.
If you can't win with appearance… win with presence.
She stripped off her clothes and pulled on the imperfect swapped gown.
It looks wrong.
But she straightened it anyway.
Her heels — freshly glued — trembled as she walked toward the stage entrance.
From the private upper gallery, a tall figure stepped into the shadows.
Alexander Cole had arrived unexpectedly to observe operations.
He wasn't supposed to care.
But he noticed something unusual backstage.
A girl walking toward disaster with her head held high.
Interesting.
The curtains parted.
Bright lights swallowed her.
Whispers rippled across the judge's table.
Judge Helena leaned forward.
"That dress," she muttered.
Piper got to the center stage.
The zipper split.
A faint tearing sound echoed in the silence.
Laughter broke out from somewhere in the audience.
Heat rushed to Piper's face.
This was it.
This is the end.
She could run.
She could apologize.
She could disappear.
Instead—
She lifted her chin.
And walked.
Every step is deliberate.
Every movement seems controlled.
The gown might fall apart.
She wouldn't.
Upstairs, Alexander leaned forward.
His expression shifted for the first time that morning.
No fear.
No pleading.
Just defiance.
"Who is she?" he asked quietly.
Silas checked the file. "Contestant twenty-one. Piper Reese."
Alexander's eyes never left the stage.
"Make sure she doesn't leave the building."
This time, the zipper tore completely.
The dress began to slip.
Gasps filled the room.
All attention on Piper.