Celine let the curtain fall back in place. “Let’s go.”
The backstage was stirring behind her. The models had lined up in rows, their designers waiting in the back. Franz was to open first, then Celine would go out, and lastly, Elise would close their presentations with her line. Celine could hear her heart drum loudly in her chest as she took her place between them. But she latched onto the thought that Bastien had planted in her mind—the possibility of reopening Adalene’s studio even if they didn’t win today—and the tension on her nerves eased.
Smoothing out the lapels of his violet jacket, Monsieur Baudelaire handed Gabriel the papers he’d been holding, and stepped onto the stage. The lights around the room dimmed and the row of fixtures along the catwalk flared up to illuminate him.
“Esteemed guests and revered designers, welcome to Maison Baudelaire,” he greeted. “As you know, today marks the end of the competition that will announce the new heir of Maison Baudelaire. Ten young designers have been competing against each other for the past ten weeks, and out of those ten, the trio you will see next have made it to this very last round. They have proved to be remarkably brilliant young minds, with a determination to come first that has never ceased. However, only one of them will be crowned winner.” He clicked his cane once. “I present to you, Franz Olivier, Celine LeBeau, and Elise Sartre.”
Chapter 35
Dreams Do Come True…In Unexpected Ways
The commotion died down around them, to some extent, as Monsieur Baudelaire rounded up the models and tried to keep up with the journalists that were spewing inquiries from left and right. Elise’s name continued to be whispered through the hall, accompanied by praise and approval of becoming the next designer who would continue the legacy of Maison Baudelaire.
Bastien helped Celine down the stage once she was done introducing her collection to a group of journalists, too eager to getGlamour Girl’s account on ‘going from cover girl to designer’. She didn’t want that to be the focal-point of their articles the next day, so she had kept her answers short and concentrated on the style she had chosen to compete with, haranguing them about fashion as a form of art until Bastien had pulled her away.
“You know they will still print whatever they want tomorrow.”
Celine wrinkled her nose. “That’s not fair. I worked really hard to end up as the cover girl who played designer for a little while…and didn’t even win.”
Indeed, they had lost. And on top of that, they didn’t even have the funds now to give Monsieur Ménard what Bastien owed him. Their current circumstances were pretty much the same as they had been almost three months ago, except for the additionof romance, a ruined engagement, and a whole wardrobe full of haute couture.
“How are you feeling about that?” Bastien asked, walking them to a quieter corner. A look of concern rippled across his face at the lack of disappointment on her features. “You appear oddly calm. Should I prepare for a breakdown later on? In five minutes? Ten?”
“I am calm,” Celine said, and Bastien raised his brows in surprise. “I feel…strangely content. I guess I am happy I saw this until the end. I don’t have to stare at a wall and wonderwhat ifanymore.”
“But this was your dream,” he said.
“Well…sort of.” Peering down at the elegant creation she was wearing, Celine realised she had been living her dream all these weeks. Just like Bastien had said earlier, her time inside Maison Baudelaire had been filled with new knowledge. Celine had been so busy hiding from her mother and sewing in the dark to notice that her skill had improved tremendously under the guidance of Claude Baudelaire. Her goal might have been winning the fashion house, but she came out with something equally invaluable instead. “My dream was to be a designer. I got to do that here. I only entered the competition because I couldn’t open my own House under my own name.” Interlinking their fingers, Celine smiled up at him. “And unless you’ve changed your mind about your mother’s studio…”
“Not a chance,” said Bastien, understanding what she meant. “You are still getting your fashion house, Celine LeBeau.”
“Ourhouse,” Celine corrected. “Even though…” The corners of her mouth slowly set into a dejected line. “Neither of us has any money to open it right away.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Bastien said, draping his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Weought to enjoy this moment for a bit, don’t you think? It will probably be our last time standing here before Elise takes over.”
Celine leaned against him and peered around. The outside world had not existed during the hours she had been inside Maison Baudelaire, preparing her next design. There had only been fierce concentration, the art of creation, and the familiar whirring of sewing machines. Celine was suddenly grateful she had taken a leap of faith the day she had applied and hadn’t allowed herself to give up at any point, even when the work had piled up and the lies were spinning out of control.
She was content—despite the loss, despite everything else she had done today. A weight that had been shackling her for so long had lifted off her chest, and Celine could finally reach the endless possibilities stretched before her. She was eager to taste all of them.
From her periphery, she saw Elise, who had finally freed herself from the journalists that had flocked her the moment her name had echoed across the stage. Celine disentangled herself from Bastien. “I will meet you outside,” she said. “I want to congratulate Elise for a moment.”
As she made to leave Bastien pulled her back.
“I am fine, I promise,” Celine insisted. She was happy that Elise had won. The future of Maison Baudelaire was in extremely skilful hands with her and Elana heading the House now.
“I know you are,” Bastien said. “I just wanted to give you this,” and leaning down, he pressed a quick peck to her cheek. “Now go.”
When Celine approached, she found that Franz had beaten her to it. His hand was stretched for a shake, a mix between a smile and a sneer resting on his lips. It started leaning more towards the latter when Celine halted before them.
“Stop being smug about it,” she said. “We both lost.”
“Yes, well…” he returned to Elise. “You better keep up the good work. Maison Baudelaire’s reputation shouldn’t be wasted.”
“It won’t,” Elise replied evenly. “But you are welcome to visit and see that I’m keeping my promise.”
He looked like he was about to grumble something back, but once he noticed that Chanel and Molyneux were studying his designs, Franz scurried towards them, putting on a dazzling smile for their benefit. Celine shook her head and turned to Elise promptly.
“Congratulations,” she offered, putting out her hand. “I’m glad you didn’t make it easy.”
