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I paused when I took the last step, looking toward the front door. So many papz camped in front of the club, waiting to take pictures of everyone going in and out. I had no energy for any of them.
The alley behind the building would take me directly to the design school. Only the tenants had access to that area.
Now, I had to find a way to get to it.
Slipping around a collection of servers preparing cocktails, I followed a busser into the kitchen.
Keeping my head up and faking that air of confidence I’d mastered over the years, I smiled at the staff, who stopped as they recognized me.
I strode past them and then blew a kiss at a line cook in the back of the area. A grin broke out on his face, and he blushed beet red. Then, the others around him started laughing and making comments to him.
With them all distracted, I pushed through a set of double doors and found the back exit leading to the alleyway.
When I hit the night air, I took a deep breath, lifted my face to the night sky, and let the first tear spill from my eyes.
I’d survive. I always had, and I always would.
Pushing down the heartache for the moment, I trekked through a maze of dumpsters, storage sheds, and parked cars until I reached the maintenance access for the school.
God, I hoped there was someone around to let me in. The last thing I wanted to do was use the front entrance of the school.
Just as I set my hand on the metal door, it popped open.
An older man with gray hair and kind brown eyes appeared. “Young Morelli, I knew I recognized you on the monitor. You’re lucky I was down here to let you in.”
“Thanks, Mr. Nelson. You’re the best,” I said to the evening head custodian.
“Don’t get into too much trouble.”
“You know me. I’m a good girl.”
He chuckled. “Of course you are. Go on.”
Less than a few minutes later, I entered the fabric room, hidden on the third floor.
Slipping my heels off, I set them against a wall with my clutch. I made my way through row after row of rolled fabrics in every color and pattern imaginable, towering to the ceiling. The scent of dyes and various design materials permeated through the air.
The school had five warehouses set up throughout the campus, but this one was my favorite. At the beginning of my modeling career and friendship with Karina, I’d spent countless hours here as her living mannequin, helping her with her projects and classes.
My time here with Karina helped me learn many skills I’d acquired to design clothes. It was like attending design school without a single day in the classroom.
On the other hand, the lessons I learned on the other side of the fashion aisle taught me just as many things, both good and bad.
If only the bad weren’t so very bad and painful.
Walking over to a drafting table, I found the beginning sketches of a wedding gown. My thoughts immediately jumped to Eva and the wedding that all my drama currently overshadowed.
Deep down, I knew she wouldn’t hold anything against me.
In my head, I could hear her tell me in her silky, soft mother tone, “Sophia, don’t be silly. I’d rather elope. All that matters is that I’m married before the baby arrives.”
It still hurt my heart knowing my issues had put a cloud over the joy she should feel.
I clenched my eyes tight and dropped my head.
It was so much easier to focus on other people and how my fuckups hurt them than face the pain I felt, knowing I would forever remain alone.
Maybe Mom had it right. She pretended to feel nothing and focused on everything but her emotions. More than likely, that was how she survived with her sanity, being married to Dad for decades.
