The backstage of Celestia Vogue Annual Showcase was a whirlwind of movement—models adjusting their outfits, stylists making last-minute tweaks, and photographers capturing behind-the-scenes moments. The air was thick with the scent of luxury perfumes, fabric steamers hissing in the background, and the occasional excited chatter of designers showcasing their latest creations.

You navigated through the chaos with practiced ease, your shoes clicking softly against the marble flooring as you made your way toward the dressing area. The Ethereal Essence collection was the highlight of the evening, and every model present was a vision of elegance.

As you walked through the controlled chaos, a presence caught your attention—a woman moving with effortless grace through the crowd. Calista. She was dressed in a flowing ensemble that shimmered beneath the backstage lights, her every movement refined, rehearsed, yet entirely natural.

As you passed her, a shift in the air. A pause—almost imperceptible.

Calista slowed, her steps faltering just slightly as the faint trace of your fragrance reached her. Her head turned, a subtle glance over her shoulder. Her gaze, sharp yet unreadable, lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

Then, just as quickly, she looked away, resuming her path as if nothing had happened. Yet in the charged stillness of that fleeting moment, something had.