Page 129 of Road Trip to Forever
We work our way through the group of people to the section of the room roped off for designers. The runway has been broken down, a small stage is set up in its place in front of hundreds of chairs. Some of the general public stuck around for the announcement of the winners. Some of the people congregating and chatting eagerly are friends and family, waiting with bated breath for the final results.
We find two seats toward the front of the room at the end of the row. Patrick lets me take the chair on the outside, correctly assuming I may want to run from the room and hide. His hand settles on my thigh and I rest my head on his shoulder, taking a second to breath before the announcements gets underway.
Janet climbs onto the stage first, followed by Vivian, and a roaring round of applause bursts through the crowd while the distinguished designer waves, mouthingthank you.
What a life to be recognized everywhere you go.
“Good morning,” Janet says into the microphone, pausing momentarily to let the sound techs fix the staticky feedback. They switch out a cord and give her the thumbs up to continue. “We’re so excited to see so many of you here to watch as we unveil the winners from the 2023 Florida Fashion Show.”
There’s another round of applause and Patrick leans into me.
“How many winners are there?” he asks in a low voice.
“One from each day, then Best Of,” I answer. “The winners from each day get a smaller cash prize, and the Best Of winner takes home the grand prize.”
“You’ve got this, honey.”
I smile at his enthusiasm, the positivity radiating off of him as he taps his knee up and down, clearly just as nervous as I am.
“First up is the winner from the women’s division,” Janet starts, reading off a card from an envelope. “This year’s top designer is… Matilda Paige!”
Cheers ring out around the room. I see Matilda jump up, her blonde curls bouncing as she hugs the people around her. I remember her designs because she walked three spots in front of me. Vibrant colors, bold patterns, and the kind of whimsical clothes you’d find at the mall in the eighties. I liked her style and she’s a nice human, stopping to wish me good luck this morning in the hallway, so I’m glad to see her win.
We watch her walk across the stage and shake hands with Janet and Vivian, collecting a check and a bouquet of flowers.
“She’s peppy,” Patrick says, and I giggle into his shirt.
“Shh. I’m trying to listen.”
Three other names get announced for the remaining divisions. My heart sinks further into my chest each time I hear someone else get called, my dream slipping out of grasp.
“Best Of,” Patrick whispers. “This is the most important one.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’ll see.”
I know he’s trying to make me feel better but it’s hard to watch something you worked so hard for go to someone else.They’re just as deserving as you,I tell myself.Stop being bitter.
I shove the selfish thoughts away.
“Before we move on to the Best Of winner, we have a slight amendment to the program,” Janet says. “When we first set out to do the show this year, we knew we’d have the highest number of participants than ever before. Thanks to the hard work of our designers and our judges, we surpassed our initial fundraising and sponsor goal. Because of this, we’re able to award another winner in an additional category: Best Up-And-Coming Designer. This winner will win an additional $500,000 and a photo shoot, as well as an exclusive mentorship with Vivian Lee.”
“Holy shit,” Patrick whispers. “Lola.”
“There were sixty-five first-time designers,” I say. “It could be anyone.”
“It could also beyou.”
I swallow down the lump of excitement in my throat and fidget in my seat. My heart is racing and I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe. There are murmured voices around me and I can hardly hear when Janet announces, “Our first ever Best Up-And-Coming designer is… Lola Jones.”
I blink, staring at the stage in pure disbelief. I turn my head to ask Patrick what she said but he’s hauling me into his arms before I have the chance, kissing my cheek, my nose, my forehead.
“You did it,” he whispers in my ear. His shoulders shake and I realize through his jubilation what’s happening.
I won.
Iwon.
Me.
