PRISCILLA’S POV

I rubbed my shaking hands on my thigh as the models were being made up and dressed. It was finally D-Day, and all the nerves I’d been feeling prior to this day had multiplied. I looked around for Carlie, surprised when she was nowhere to be found. The backstage was milling with models and designers screaming orders and last minute fixings.

I saw my team and went to them. “Is everything ready?” I asked the stylists.

One of the ladies who was working on a model turned ...