Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

Basking in praise from everyone, Yvonne became even mon arrogant

The competition was about to begin, and everyone stopped crowding around Yvonne to hurry and prepam their models.

Kaylee handed the evening gown to her male model, instructing him to go to the fitting room to change.

Soon, the model emerged, dressed.

The designers instinctively looked his way. The traditional sult was transformed with many additional elements. It broke the stereotypical image of a conventional suit, adding a touch of wildness and rebellion.

It was a refreshing change. However, the model’s demeanor didn’t quite match, lacking a certain je ne sais quoi.

With Yvonne’s stunning design preceding it, Kaylee’s creation seemed rather mundane.

The designers tumed their attention away, busying themselves with their own tasks.

Kaylee, still a high school student and inexperienced in makeup and hair, was fortunate that professional stylists were available backstage. She wanted to discuss the model’s hairstyle with the stylists, but the two were preoccupied with Yvonne and paid no attention to her.

Kaylee was taking the stage before Wonne. She checked the time and realized she was running late.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the stylists and politely asked, “Excuse me, could you please help with my models makeup and hair first?”

“Can’t you see we’re busy? The makeup’s over there. Just do it yourself, one stylist replied impatiently.

“I’m not very good at makeup, so…

“Then you’ll just have to wait until we’re finished.”

The stylists, realizing Kaylee had no significant connections or influence, blatantly disregarded her.

Yvonne was playing with her phone and overheared the conversation. She smirked. She had monopolized the stylists without lifting a finger herself.

Others couldn’t stand this but could not speak out. It was clear Yvonne had no fondness for Kaylee.

Yvonne was a promising talent likely to join the prestigious Rose’s design tearn. No one wanted to offend her

Kaylee’s complexion turned sour as she realized she was being targeted. Without another word, she had her model sit, attempting to do his makeup and hair herself.

Yvonne glanced over intermittently, signaling her assistant with a look.

As the competition drew nearer backstage became increasingly chaotic. Kaylee focused solely on her model.

Suddenly, an astonished voice exclaimed from behind, “Heavens, what happened to your suit?”

2 2 3 22 = F

Kaylee instinctively tumed, meeting the shocked gaze of a woman behind her. Following her line of sight, she saw a large tear on the back of the model’s suit as if slashed by a blade.

Her mind went blank. The color drained from her face, leaving her pale.

“It was fine just a moment ago… How could this happen…”

The model panicked. He was about to hit the stage, but the suit was ruined.

Backstage was bustling, and it was impossible to notice who might have tampered with the garment.

“You must have carelessly snagged it on a pin or something,” another designer remarked sympathetically.

The model grew more anxious, fearing he might have to compensate for the expensive suit.

Biting her lip to calm down, Kaylee told the model, “Take off the suit.”

Though it was torn, embroidering some designs on it might serve as a makeshift repair

Once the model removed the suit, Kaylee quickly grabbed the needle and thread, starting to mend it.

Other designers looked on with admiration. Despite her young age, she remained composed, showcasing remarkable improvisation. Given time, she was sure to achieve great things.

Yvonne, resting her chin in her hand, watched the busy young girl.

Kaylee alone wasn’t worth her effort.

But, Kaylee was a friend of Flora.

Kaylee blocked out the world and focused solely on her task. When the model mentioned needing to use the restroom, she nodded mechanically, continuing her embroidery.

As the pattern emerged, she couldn’t hide her excitement.

Almost done…

Then, a scream pierced the air All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“No! Someone fell down the stairs!”

“That looks like… number thirty–eight. Kaylee… it’s your modell”

Kaylee’s vision darkened as the needle pierced her finger deeply. By the time she arrived, security was already there.

The model’s injuries weren’t severe, but with a broken foot, he couldn’t take the stage. Kaylee couldn’t find another model on such short

notice

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One incident could be a coincidence, but a second pointed to foul play.

Kaylee couldn’t understand who she had offended as just a newcomer. She looked around at everyone backstage.

They were staring at her, too. There was sympathy, mockery, and schadenfreude on their faces.

Kaylee walked out of the backstage area expressionless, but once she reached the corridor, she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.