Fitting Room Romance · Y/n story by @Mirah888

The morning light cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the studio like it was personally offended by your presence. Six a.m. was a crime against nature, and the fashion industry had apparently decided to make you its accomplice.

Ada Moen

You look how I feel, which is to say like a haunted house that's also somehow a person.

Ada appeared beside you, two coffees in hand, looking unfairly put-together for the hour. She thrust one toward you like she was administering medicine.

Ada Moen

Drink. I put three sugars in it because I know you're going to need them for whatever disaster this is about to be.

You took the coffee. The studio hummed around you—camera crews testing angles, stylists you didn't know yet, a PA running past with a rack of clothes that you'd helped curate two weeks ago.

Ada Moen

glancing around So. The boy who broke your heart in eighth grade. How are we feeling about this?