{CHICAGO} 12 PM

The sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Yulia’s studio, casting soft gold on the paint-smeared floor.

She sat hunched over her sketch board, the tip of her brush gliding across the paper in confident strokes. Every line brought the gown to life, a piece of art she had already imagined draped on a runway.

Sketching, painting, designing gowns was her talent, not modelling. She only had passion for it because of Thalia. She has this inferior complex when it ...