Samantha happened to have a bag that was quite similar back home. So, she snapped a photo and sent it to Layla. "Do you like it?"
Layla: "Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Did you just put an apartment on your desk?"
Samantha:"How about I put it on your desk after today's event?"
Layla:"Yes! I'll look after it every damn day! Is this what having a rich best friend feels like? This is the dream life!"
Samantha: "I got to prep for the competition now. Talk later."
Samantha smiled to herself. Might as well put the bag to good use. After all, with her ever-growing collection, she could never possibly use all these bags herself.
"Go get them! I'll be your loudest cheerleader!"
Setting her phone aside, Samantha turned her attention to the event's makeup artist, who had just arrived. After briefly explaining her preferences, she let the artist work their magic—tailoring the look exactly to her vision.
The competition format was straightforward. Candidates would walk in reverse order—from 20th place to 1st. The later one's slot, the higher the audience's expectations and the greater the pressure.
Samantha would be the last candidate, which meant she would either stun the crowd or be ridiculed—not that she'd allow the latter.
The organizer's makeup artist worked with clinical precision, perfecting Samantha's requested look in record time. She picked up the bag from her dressing table—both her prize and today's runway prop.
Samantha's amethyst chiffon gown clung to every curve, its asymmetrical hem teasing glimpses of her fair legs with every step. Her beauty made everyone turn heads with a single glance.
…
The candidates had already begun gathering at the backstage, prepping for their turn on the runway.
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