Chapter 299
Tables overflowed with an array of pens—different colors, various finishes—giving everyone the tools to bring their vision to life in vivid detail.
Once the challenge was set, Maxton found himself unable to look away from Willa. He watched her take a moment to gather her thoughts, eyes narrowed with concentration. Soon, her pencil danced across the page, full of purpose. The steady confidence in her every movement soothed his nerves. Inspiration seemed to flow through her, as if she’d stepped onto the stage already knowing what she would create.
Content that Willa was off to a strong start, Maxton finally glanced over at Noelle. Her pen moved quickly over the paper, but after a few lines, she stopped cold and didn’t so much as twitch. Maxton’s forehead creased with confusion. Was Noelle finished already? Maybe she was just here to stir up trouble.
While every other designer labored away, Noelle sat quietly, hands idle. Her attitude seemed almost dismissive, as if she had quit before the real work began. Maxton couldn’t shake the thought—she didn’t understand anything about fashion at all.
From the seats beyond the stage, the crowd couldn’t see what the designers were actually drawing. All they could see was who worked feverishly and who had already set their tools down.
Soon, whispers fluttered through the venue. “Hey, do you see Eric Fernandez? He’s with the international group—legend has it, he’s snagged trophies at several major contests. I’d put my money on him winning again.”
“Willa’s not far behind! She’s the one everyone’s watching now. Maybe she’ll outshine Eric this time.”
“I agree. The Moss family’s new releases—Willa was behind all of them. I bought a piece just because the design was too gorgeous to pass up!”
𝘑𝘰𝗶𝘯 𝘰𝘂𝘳 co𝗆𝗆𝘶ո𝗂𝘁у 𝘰n 𝗴a𝘭𝗻𝘰𝘷𝘦𝗅ѕ.𝗰𝗼𝗺
“Hold on, let’s not forget Noelle. Remember when Ansell vouched for her talent? If someone like him thinks she’s good, there’s got to be something there.”
“Look at the stage, though! Noelle’s just sitting there, already done. I don’t buy the hype. Ansell must have been joking. She’s probably just filling a spot.”
Meanwhile, Noelle sat in her own world, unaware of the buzzing opinions. Her pen lay flat on the table, and she cast a quick glance at the clock—barely twenty minutes had ticked by. Stuck at her station, she propped her chin in her hand, fighting the urge to yawn as boredom crept in.
The hour crawled by, and finally, time was up. Designers had to halt their work, whether their sketches were complete or not. Adding even a single line past the deadline would get them disqualified.
Judging officially commenced as anticipation buzzed through the venue. Spotlights swept the stage, where Cushouwana’s team of six designers waited on the left, mirrored by the foreign contingent on the right. Between them, a row of judges sat behind a long, imposing table, ready to assess every sketch.
Eric, the star of the foreign team, took center stage as the first contender to face the judges. All eyes turned upward as his design appeared on the giant screen.
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