Page 2 of Face-Off with my Childhood Best Friend

Belle’s smile lights up her face as she passes me on my way to the end of the runway. I’ve no doubt that ZaraMac will join us later, and we’ll raise a glass of champagne in celebration.

At the end of the runway, I stop and strike a pose, exuding elegance and poise, with my hand resting confidently on my hip. The thunderous applause of the crowd reverberates through the room, filling me with a surge of confidence. I hold the pose for a few seconds, feeling the eyes of the audience on me, and then elegantly turn on my heel to make my way back down the runway.

The sound of my phone’s cheery ringtone pierces through the quiet, and I abruptly wake up, sitting upright in bed.

With my heart pounding, I snatch my phone from the nightstand. A wave of relief washes over me as a familiar name, “Mom,” appears on the screen, and a smile forms on my face. It’s been months since I’ve seen my family, and I can’t help but feel a pang of homesickness tugging at my heart.

I press answer, “Hi Mom.”

Her sigh fills the air, causing my stomach to twist into a tight knot. My immediate instinct is to ask what’s wrong, but I pause, the weight of anticipation holding me back.

The instant my mom pauses to catch her breath and then informs me with a heavy voice, “Your grandpa is in the hospital,” a sense of panic floods my heart.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, not sure if I want to know the answer to my next question. “Is he okay?”

With an intensified sense of fear, I feel as though my chest is being constricted by an iron band, and I mentally prepare myself for the possibility of receiving more information.

“It’s not looking good,” she murmurs.

I expect there’s an urgency to return home before my scheduled booking in Milan. Previously, the thought of strutting down the catwalk in his exquisite designs fills me with excitement, but not at the expense of not seeing my grandpa.

Although I was excited about walking his show in Milan, I know that right now, my place is at home.

“Should I come home?” The words leave my mouth impulsively. Not wondering how this might affect my future as a model.

“I’m not sure, Nads,” my mother responds, her voice trembling. “The doctors are still running tests, trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. But it doesn’t look good.”

A lump forms in my throat as I struggle to hold back my tears. I can’t bear the thought of losing him. He has always been there for me, guiding me when everyone else thought modeling was a distant and hopeful dream.

His gentle words and unwavering support were the driving force that pushed me towards success.

For as long as I can remember, Grandpa has been the epitome of strength in our family, but knowing he is lying weak in a hospital bed makes my heart drop.

I need to book my flight. “I’ll come home.”

I have to go home and help her and see him.

“Will you be penalized?” Mom asks.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. Worry kindles my gut, and I chew on my lip for a moment. “But I can’t leave him there without seeing him. What if—”

Mom gasps.

“Sorry. I’m coming home.”

“Would you like me to lend a hand with anything?” Mom asks.

“I’ll be fine.” She has enough to worry about without worrying about my plans.

“Sorry, darling.”

As I listen to my mother’s voice crack on the other end of the line, a surge of worry washes over me for my grandpa. “He’s going to live, though?”

She sighs. “He’s old, Nadia. I don’t know if he has any fight left in him. I know your work is important to you. But he misses you.”

Tear coats my eyes as I hold back my sobs. “I miss him too. I need to see him.”

“What about your modeling?” she breathes. I know she wants me home, but she doesn’t want me jeopardizing my career, either.

---