"Are you
really sure you want me to do this?" Edyta asked for the fifth time in the past half hour.
Oh, she was nervous, but that wasn't really the problem. She got nervous before Quidditch matches and when she had to take a test even when she knew the subject matter well. This was something different. Nikola wanted her to model for her
Armored Aesthetic fashion collection, in a show that was due to begin in approximately three hours from now. Edyta had agreed when she'd been asked - she could never refuse Nikola anything, the woman was the best friend she'd ever had - but she'd had her misgivings right from the start and now they were getting more and more intense as showtime crept ever closer. What if she tripped over in front of everyone? What if she did something stupid and everyone laughed? What if she just wasn't as good as the other models and showed Nikola up?
That was her worst fear. She didn't want to let her friend down. The seventh year felt slightly better knowing that not all the models were professionals, that Nikola and apparently some of the other fashion designers wanted regular people to display their clothes. Something about if the audience could relate to the models, they would be more likely to place an order with the designer. But that didn't make Edyta feel any calmer. Right now she felt as if she ought to be already at the show venue, even though there were still hours to go before she would be needed and she only had two outfits to model anyway. One would be at the finale of Nikola's show, which she was trying very hard not to think about, even if - and she admitted this privately - she was really, really looking forward to wearing that costume. It had been made especially to fit her, a far cry from the hand me downs and second hand garments she had worn her entire life.
But she was still nervous. And Nikola had said that a walk around the art gallery would help her relax, so that was why they were there, on the final morning of what had been one of the most exciting weekends of the seventeen year old's life. She'd tasted cuisine she hadn't even known had existed. She'd danced to bands she'd only ever seen pictured in magazines. She'd watched a dance performance so exotic it had seemed that the performers must be using illusion in order to appear to contort themselves into such incredible positions. She'd stayed up late talking to people who had actually seemed impressed that a student was already modelling at such a prestigious event (Edyta didn't see what was impressive about that, given that Viktor Krum had been playing for his national Quidditch team when only a few months older than she was now). All the time Nikola had been with her, not necessarily by her side but nonetheless a comforting presence. Someone she could retreat to if she became nervous or needed reassurance. Mostly, she hadn't, which was a good thing because she was sure Nikola had other friends she wanted to spend time with as well. But now they were in the gallery, and the pictures and sculptures were stunning, and other people were milling around - some looking a little the worse for wear after what had clearly been a late night. Edyta was doing her best to distract herself.
"What do you think of this one?" she asked, pausing in front of a bronze statue of a unicorn, horn lowered ready to charge.
@Nikola Meer
