Winning My Ex-Crush

Fenella’s POV

“Okay, I think the combinations are perfect. Let’s agree. Don’t forget to style your hair a bit tousled and not too straight like it is now,” Oscar continued to instruct me repeatedly.

What else could I say other than “Yes, Oscar” or “Of course, Oscar”?

Ugh, I should have known Oscar was like any other fashion designer. He was even more meticulous and finicky. I guess that’s why he was the best.

After all the costume fittings, we still brainstormed how to go on stage. I don’t know how many times we talked about it, but our ideas seemed to run out.

“I still think we need a passionate moment as a sign of the beginning of your performance. Just being called or the lights being turned off and then using spotlights somehow seems less original and less natural,” Oscar said with his hands raised like spotlight lamps.

“Do you want us to naturally advance on stage?” Alan confirmed this again.

“Yes. You know, like a flash mob, or when people suddenly dare to come up and dance on stage. The event will be more lively and exciting if done spontaneously,” Oscar explained his vision once again for the main performance tomorrow at his club.

“We’ll try it, Oscar. The models will be ready to liven up the event too, so we don’t have to worry that the atmosphere will be dull. We’ll make sure the party atmosphere explodes spontaneously,” Alan tried to reassure Oscar once more.

After an extended ten-minute discussion, Oscar finally left. I, Jessy, Alan, and the dance instructor remained silent in the practice room. We all thought about how to meet Oscar’s request for a spontaneous and natural atmosphere, but for some reason, none of us could form a favorable idea.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“Damn, my brain’s stuck!” Alan exclaimed hoarsely.

“My head hurts,” I said, holding my forehead.

Really, I’m not used to thinking this hard. Creativity isn’t my forte, so I’m not sure I can contribute an idea.

“Oh, come on. I think we’re all exhausted. Also, Alan, when it comes to spontaneity and impulsive decisions, Fenella is an expert,” Jessy said with an irritated sigh.

“What do you mean?” I furrowed my brow.

It seemed tiredness was beginning to gnaw at me bit by bit. I felt offended by Jessy’s earlier remark. It was small, but it made me uncomfortable.

“I mean, you’re sure to be able to solve this stage entrance issue easily. I believe in you; you’ll find a solution tomorrow that satisfies Oscar,” Jessy tried to reassure me.

“Yes, of course. Three glasses of vodka are enough to make me act crazy,” I grumbled irritably.

“Great. Do that, and I’ll promptly answer your call. Whenever you’re ready and the time is right, I’ll go up on stage to welcome you. Jessy will also be ready near the DJ.” Alan intervened to mediate between me and Jessy.

“I guess that really is the best plan for now,” I said quickly, shrugging my shoulders.

***

“Hm, this is so good,” I sighed.

Jessy and I decided to end our intense debate. Both of us agreed that we were so tired that emotions easily flared up. After contacting our regular spa, we immediately asked the taxi driver to change the route.

Now both of us were relaxing in a private room reserved just for us. The private room at our regular spa has separating curtains. So, we could still spend time together, chatting and letting our bodies be massaged by our regular masseuses.

“Yes, finally we can relax a bit.” Jessy sighed deeply too.

“I still don’t understand why Oscar asked a model like me to fill in at the event with dancing. I mean, there are many other dancers who are much better than me. He even has his own strippers. God, he owns the club.”

I groaned in frustration over this project. It’s not that I’m not happy about getting a new, challenging job. It’s just that I feel this challenge is a bit too much for me.

“What if this project fails and doesn’t meet Oscar’s expectations? You saw it yourself, right? He kept talking about natural spontaneity,” I continued to protest to Jessy.

“He doesn’t want a professional dancer. He thinks they lack novelty and spontaneity. He wants something unexpected. He wants the party to be lively, as if his club attracted people to do the unexpected.” Jessy explained it patiently.

“Do you remember the party theme? Leap of destiny. That’s why he asked for a model from Gene. While professional dancers just become the background,” Jessy explained.

“Yes, I know his philosophy. He repeats it by saying that he opened the club as a leap of fate,” I said as my masseuse massaged my stiff back.

“So, do I really have to literally leap onto the stage?” I asked.

“That’s what Oscar wants,” Jessy said softly.

I finally fell silent again, pondering over all of Oscar’s requests that seemed unreasonable. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any other choice.

“Besides, he still wants his clothes showcased by a model who looks like she’s having fun. He doesn’t want someone he doesn’t know wearing his clothes.” Jessy’s voice started to fade into her increasingly heavy breathing.

Little did I know Oscar de Ragetti was such an arrogant person. He’s just like the fashion designers I know. They’re all the same. They’re too proud of their own work.

Ironically, no matter how bored I am with those arrogant fashion designers, I rely on them to hire me as a model for their clothes.

“Just make sure I don’t drink more than four glasses. You know what happens when I exceed my tolerance when I’m with Laird,” I said with my eyes closed.

“If that night repeats, I think it’s good. Isn’t that what you want? I can’t wait to chat more with Laird,” Jessy exclaimed with a high tone.

“That’s why I rejected the idea of getting drunk just to comply with Oscar’s spontaneity. I’m afraid I won’t remember the dance moves if I get drunk.” I groaned.

“Ah, yes. I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to lose the memory of Laird, even for a moment, just to enjoy every second of it,” Jessy giggled.

“Ugh, I mean, I don’t want to just be a mere pleasure-bunny to him without any feelings at all,” I said again, resting my head back on the pillow.

“Yes, of course. You want your relationship to be special.” Jessy sounded weaker. He seemed drowsy.

“Isn’t that how it should be? Laird and I have a special relationship.”

“I don’t want to ruin it with a relationship without feelings. You know, I want to make him like me consciously and genuinely, not just because of alcohol.”

I fell silent, enjoying the massage with my eyes closed. My words received no further response. Then I heard Jessy’s distinctive snoring.