Paris was colder than Ayden expected.
Sharp wind, gray skies, and the scent of wet stone and perfume.
The team arrived at the venue early — the venue: La Galerie de Fer, an industrial steel-and-glass relic turned high-fashion catwalk, glowing with soft spotlights and tension.
Everyone looked polished.
Everyone looked ready.
Except Ayden wasn't pretending anymore.
He wasn't ready.
He was willing.
Camille whistled as they stepped inside the staging area.
"Well," they said, "we're definitely not in school anymore."
Theo adjusted the lighting meter on his camera. "Everyone's sweating perfection."
Luca carried their garment bags like they were gold.
Ayden walked a step behind them all. Not because he was hesitant — but because he was watching.
Observing his team. His people.
Theo, soft and steady.
Camille, sharp and dazzling.
Luca, tired but glowing.
His, in some strange and fragile way.
Their dressing area was a converted greenhouse behind the main venue. Natural light poured in, filtering over mannequins and mirror-stations. Their designs hung carefully on metal racks — all fifteen looks, each labeled.
Friction / Ruinlace — Ayden Vale + Luca Moretti
It looked official. Real.
Ayden ran his fingers over the finale gown.
Still not flawless.
Still perfect in its own ruined way.
That night, the four of them had dinner on a hotel balcony.
Camille poured wine into paper cups. "To surviving sabotage, sleepless nights, and unsewn egos."
Theo raised his cup. "To Ayden not murdering anyone."
Ayden smiled — barely.
Luca nudged his thigh under the table. "To the fact that no matter what happens tomorrow... we already won."
Camille lifted a brow. "Ugh. You're so in love it's disgusting."
Luca just winked.
Ayden said nothing — but under the table, he reached for Luca's hand.
And squeezed.
Later, back in the hotel room, Ayden sat at the window in a black tee, watching the Eiffel Tower glow in the distance.
Luca stepped out of the shower, toweling off his hair.
"You okay?"
Ayden turned slightly. "I'm not shaking."
"That's new."
"I don't know if we'll win," Ayden said. "I don't know if anyone will understand what we made."
Luca walked over and wrapped his arms around him from behind.
"But you understand it."
Ayden nodded slowly.
"That's all that matters," Luca whispered, lips brushing his temple. "Everything else is noise."
Ayden leaned back into him.
Just breathing.
Just ready.