We have to wear blank black clothes to mask class so our selves don't intrude.
People with hair in their face must pin their hair off their face.
When you're wearing black and have your face
...
[+]
As the city's sanitation crew dusted the fresh snow from the avenues, navigating his way through the morning traffic, Nathan finally arrived home. He was still buoyed by the remnants of a long night's jamboree among the Upper East Side elite. This routine, dancing until dawn, the lavish consumption, and decking up in expensive, designer clothes and retreating to sleep as the sun ascended, was his life.
Usually, he managed to slip inside unseen before his parents awoke, but today, fate intervened. His father intercepted him in the marble foyer, his expression a familiar blend of disappointment and fury. "Is this how you want your life to be? Why are you wasting a prestigious business Degree from Harvard? Why don't you come work with me?" Nathan, as always, shrugged off the comments, his steps unwavering as he retreated to his room. He showered, donned silk pyjamas, and adores the light snow falling on the skyline of New York from his penthouse. He then drew the heavy drapes, sealing himself away until midday.
He wakes up to a delightful notification, signalling the commencement of New York Fashion Week in seven days. He immediately went to his favourite, intimate cafe, which was now charmingly adorned with Christmas lights. There, over speciality coffee, he meticulously planned the week with his friends, curating flawless outfits, mapping out their social itinerary, and booking spots at exclusive post-showcase events. When the week finally arrived, he took his privileged seat in the front row, positioned perfectly at the edge of the runway.
The entire week went by as planned until, on the last day, as he mercilessly dismissed a designer's latest collection, muttering, "What's wrong with the man, he has got no taste," he felt a sudden brush against his shoulder and looked up into the intense gaze of Suzanna. She had overheard him. With a bold, uncompromising expression, "appreciate those putting in the work", she said while walking away. Nathan was left temporarily stunned by her sharp features, impeccable, minimalist style, and raw confidence, though slight irritation quickly followed. Turning to his friend, he demanded, "What's the deal with her?" He learned that she was the sole heiress of one of the industry's largest apparel manufacturers, and she managed the retail and administration arm of the empire.
Impulsively, he bolted after her. "Wait up," he yelled, catching her near the exit. "Why would you say that to me? To a stranger?" She paused, letting out a weary sigh. "Of course! We aren't exactly strangers. You were my senior at Harvard when you won the business simulation competition. I thought you'd do something great with your life. And here you are with no goal at all." The truth of her words was a stinging blow. He tried to salvage the interaction by offering an immediate flirtatious invitation, but she merely ignored the gesture. It took all his charm and a focused effort to finally persuade her to meet him for a cup of coffee.
They met the next day at the same cosy cafe, still radiant with Christmas cheer. Her subtle approval of his selection was evident. He immediately tried to mitigate his previous critique of the designer, but she was unmoved. She countered, sharply: "You have no credibility." Despite the barbed exchange, their conversation stretched effortlessly for a couple of hours, losing track of time. "It was comforting," he admitted later. "Well, don't get used to it," she replied. "Why, if i may?" he countered, seeking a genuine answer. "Because while you are partying through the night, I run on the streets of New York those hours for inspiration and better business ideas. How do you think we are compatible? Even though our worlds resemble in some ways, the essence heavily varies."
Love, what is it? And dreams, what are they?" These existential questions rattled through Nathan's mind. Suzanna's every word stuck with him, a relentless mental challenge, while his parents' familiar criticisms haunted him. He was plunged into a period of intense introspection. Yet, above all, the singular, driving force became the need to prove himself to Suzanna, a desire so strong and uncharacteristic that, despite feeling unrealistically clichéd, it signalled a profound shift. For the first time in his life, he had absolute clarity; he loved her.
He gave in and accepted a role at his father's finance firm, seeking the stability his family demanded. For three months, he slogged to the corporate environment, finding the routine increasingly monotonous. But on the very day he decided to tender his resignation, he took a lunchtime stroll through the city. The magnificent Fifth Avenue surrounded him, exclusive boutiques displaying dazzling arrays of luxury goods. Subconsciously, he began to deconstruct the visual narratives in the windows, mentally curating and arranging individual bags, shoes, and garments into cohesive looks. He found unexpected solace in arranging these pieces. And then, the revelation hit him. Just like that, his true passion was clear, he was meant to style. He immediately resigned from the soul-crushing role and meticulously charted a course to onset a career in the fashion industry.
Leveraged his network and innate charm; he secured an assistant's role to the Editor-in-Chief of one of the most eminent fashion magazines in the city. It immediately felt perfectly right. He worked with an unprecedented dedication, month after month, earning the approval and respect of his superiors and peers. During his spare moments, he secretly developed his styling portfolio and dedicated every free minute to the magazine's vast fashion closet and dressing room. Eventually, Nathan tentatively shared a glimpse of his developed portfolio with the magazine's designated stylist. The stylist was visibly impressed, offering a potent endorsement, "You should present this to the world!"
A year had passed since this time, and the annual Fashion Week declared a prestigious competition for emerging designers and stylists. Nathan recognised this as the singular, perfect opportunity to finally validate his true passion, earn his parents' unconditional pride, and, most crucially, break through Suzanna's cynicism. He maintained his participation a secret. The only disclosure of his efforts occurred when he was formally credited for the original styles that were unveiled to the public on the runway. He did not emerge as a winner of the competition, but his work was widely celebrated and sincerely appreciated by the attendees. His parents soared proudly from their seats; he savoured the moment, feeling a sense of self-validation.
But he wasn't entirely at peace until their eyes met, she leapt at him and hugged him tight, and he wrapped his hands securely around her waist. "I am proud of you and glad you took the leap. After our conversation at the coffee shop last year, I always wished we could talk more. Actually, I did, just that you don't know." He smiled and thought to himself, "Sometimes all you've got to do is take a leap, you might end up getting the best of both worlds."