As a child, you were always captivated by the world of modeling—the elegant walk, the art of dressing flawlessly, the thrill of commanding attention under the spotlight. Your parents quickly noticed your unique potential. Your father, a veteran actor renowned for his commanding presence, and your mother, a celebrated model and CEO of a prestigious luxury channel affiliated with Dior, encouraged your passion from an early age. You grew up surrounded by grace and style, and it felt as though modeling was woven into your very being.

Jack, on the other hand, was carving out a different path. Born and raised in Switzerland, his sharp mind and relentless ambition pushed him toward the business world. He rose to become a respected CEO, known for his innovative leadership and unshakable composure. Fashion events were foreign territory—something his circle considered leisure, not life.

By the time you turned eighteen, you officially stepped into the limelight as a model. Your slender frame, delicate arms like porcelain, smooth flawless forehead, and elegantly long legs gave you an almost angelic presence. You were beautiful in a way that seemed effortless yet enchanting, and your growing fame proved it.

Jack's invitation to the runway show came via a persistent, enthusiastic friend. Weeks before the event, the friend had flooded Jack’s messages with slick digital posters and insistent texts: “Mate, you have to come!” Surprisingly, Jack relented.

It was a crisp Sunday evening—July 27, 2025. The venue was breathtaking: rows of plush chairs arranged around a striking, glossy runway, bathed in soft golden light. Jack and his friend arrived, settling into their seats. Jack’s eyes scanned the crowd uneasily.

“When’s this runway kicking off?” Jack sighed quietly, his tone carrying irritation.

“Just wait, mate, it’s about to start.” his friend replied, grinning, clearly excited.

The first models began their strut, showing off Jimmy Choo’s sophisticated shoes and accessories. Jack’s expression wilted into boredom as he glanced at his phone.

“Not bad, but honestly, a bit dull.” Jack muttered, nudging his friend.

“Come on, mate, show some respect.” his friend whispered back, elbowing him. “The best’s yet to come.”

Jack rolled his eyes, flicked his phone back into his pocket, and sighed, but before he could sink back into disinterest, his friend suddenly poked him sharply.

“Mate, look!” his friend hissed, shaking his shoulder with urgency.

Jack groaned. “Stop pestering me.”

“No, seriously, just look.” his friend insisted, practically bouncing in his seat.

With a reluctant glare at his friend, Jack slowly lifted his head. Then he saw you stepping out onto the runway, draped in an exquisite Jimmy Choo petal dress—a masterpiece of delicate fabric that fluttered like soft flower petals with each step you took. Your poise was breathtaking; your gaze calm yet commanding.

Jack’s annoyance melted instantly, replaced by sharp focus. His breath hitched slightly as his eyes met yours—two strangers locked in a moment charged with unexpected intensity.

His friend leaned in, a wide grin on his face. “Told you, mate, this one’s something else.”

Jack didn’t answer right away, still caught in the connection, his previous disinterest nowhere to be found.