Chapter 5: Reunion With Friends
I was so caught up in my thoughts that it took me a moment to register the vibration in my hand. My phone screen lit up, pulling me from the whirlwind in my mind.
It was a message from Sylus.
"I've sent over a few of the best stylists from the atelier. They'll help you get ready. And your dress will be with them too—I can't wait to see how beautiful you'll look in it. Remember, I'll be there by 8. Don't keep me waiting ;)"
Before I could fully process the message or respond, the doorbell rang, breaking the quiet tension that had filled the room. I blinked, disoriented, and moved toward the door. The second it opened, I was met with a flurry of movement, laughter, and high-pitched voices.
"Freya!"
A familiar voice squealed as the group of stylists rushed in, arms laden with bags, cases, and boxes that overflowed with brushes, curling irons, makeup, and fabrics. At the center of it all was Maeve, my best friend, her grin as wide and infectious as ever.
"Maeve?" I laughed, surprised, as she engulfed me in a warm, tight hug. "You didn't have to rush over like this! Weren't you in California working on the next release?"
Maeve rolled her eyes dramatically, waving off my words as if they were ridiculous. "Oh, please! Are you kidding? When Sylus told me you were going to the Ashford gala, there was no way I was missing the chance to style my best friend. I mean, we have to make sure you're the most stunning person there. Right, ladies?"
Her words brought a wave of enthusiastic agreement from the other stylists, all of whom I'd grown close to over the years. Their eyes sparkled with excitement, and as they began unpacking their tools, it felt like a small reunion.
"I missed you," I admitted, squeezing her arm gently.
Maeve winked. "Oh, sweetheart, we'll save the tearful reunion for later. Right now, we've got work to do. You're going to knock their socks off tonight."
The other girls busied themselves, unzipping the garment bags, laying out cosmetics, and setting up mirrors. One of them—the petite, ever-bashful Anya—spoke up with a smile. "We've been dying to see you in this dress. Mr. Thorn designed it just for you, and he told us to make sure you look even more breathtaking than usual."
A shy chorus of giggles followed, making me blush as I thought about Sylus's words.
"Breathtaking?" I repeated, my voice softer. The warmth of their compliments mixed with Sylus's attention made my stomach flutter.
"Breathtaking isn't even the half of it," Maeve said, her playful nudge pulling me out of my thoughts. "I can't wait to see you in it either."
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Maeve clapped her hands together, demanding the attention of the room. "All right, ladies! Enough chit-chat. We've got a goddess to prepare, and the clock is ticking!"
And just like that, the energy in the room shifted. They surrounded me with brushes and products, curling irons and powders. As they worked, their light-hearted banter flowed around me, a mix of celebrity gossip, fashion news, and snippets of their latest projects.
Maeve, with her capable hands, took charge of my hair, working with practiced ease to style it into loose, effortless waves that framed my face. As she twisted the final strand around a curling iron, she grinned down at me in the mirror.
"I still can't believe you're finally going to the Ashford gala," she said, her voice a mix of pride and excitement. "And with Sylus, no less! This is going to be one for the history books."
"It feels like a dream," I admitted, a nervous edge in my voice as I glanced at my reflection. "I never imagined myself attending one of these events."
"You've always avoided them," Maeve murmured, setting down the curling iron. She leaned forward, meeting my eyes in the mirror, her gaze soft and supportive. "But Freya, trust me when I say you're going to own that room. When they see you tonight, they'll know exactly who you are."
Her words, spoken with such certainty, it sent a wave of warmth through me. Surrounded by these women—friends who knew me, the real me—I felt more at ease.
As they added the final touches to my makeup, Maeve exchanged a brief look with Anya before hesitating, her usual confidence faltering for just a moment.
"Freya…" she started carefully, her voice lowering. "We were wondering if you wanted us to… cover the scar?"
The room grew quiet. I saw the genuine care in their eyes, and I knew they weren't trying to offend me. But hiding my scar had never been an option. It was a part of me, a reminder of everything I'd survived.
I shook my head softly. "No, Maeve. I don't want to hide it. I don't need to cover myself up to feel beautiful."
Maeve's smile was tender, her pride in me visible. "You're right. You don't need to cover anything. You're already beautiful, just as you are."
And with that, the moment arrived.
"It's time," Maeve whispered, her voice full of excitement as she held up the garment bag. "Are you ready to see your dress?"
My heart skipped a beat as I stood, following Maeve into the next room. She unzipped the bag with deliberate care, revealing the gown inside—a striking red and silver creation that shimmered as the light hit the embellishments. My breath caught in my throat.
Maeve let out a giddy laugh. "I know, right? Just wait until you're in it."
I stepped into the gown, the cool fabric sliding over my skin like silk. Maeve helped adjust the bodice and zipped up the back. The dress hugged my curves in all the right places, the ruched bodice emphasizing my waist before cascading into a flowing, floor-length skirt. The off-shoulder neckline added a touch of elegance, while the thigh-high slit gave the look an edge that felt bold, empowering. The silver embellishments on the shoulders and bodice glittered like stars, catching the light in all the right ways.
When I finally turned to face Maeve, her reaction was instant. Her eyes widened, her hands flying to her mouth. "Freya… you look incredible. Sylus, really is an incredible designer."
I swallowed, trying to find my voice. "You think so?"
Maeve laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Think so? Honey, you look like you just walked off a runway. You have to go show the others. Now."
Nerves fluttered in my chest as I stepped back into the living room. The moment the other girls saw me, the room fell silent. I froze for a second, unsure of their reactions. But then, a wave of gasps, exclamations, and squeals filled the air.
"Freya, you look stunning!" one of them said, her voice full of awe.
"I told you!" Maeve bounced over, her smile as wide as ever. "You're going to blow everyone away tonight."
I walked toward the mirror, my heart racing in my chest. And when I finally looked at myself, truly looked at myself, I almost didn't recognize the woman staring back at me. The gown, the scar, the confidence in my eyes—it all came together. For the first time in a long while, I felt powerful, like I was me again. I blinked rapidly, fighting back tears as emotion welled up inside me.
The girls gathered around me in a group hug, their arms enveloping me in warmth and comfort. "You're going to be the star of the night," Maeve whispered in my ear. "No one will forget this."
As they started packing up, Maeve lingered behind. She squeezed my hand gently, her eyes shining with affection. "Remember, Freya, you've got this. Don't let anyone dull your shine—not tonight, not ever."
"Thank you, Maeve. Are you staying?" I asked, hopeful. There was so much I wanted to share with her.
"Oh no, honey. I've got to get back to the shoot, but I promise we'll catch up soon. Girl's night, okay?"
I smiled, squeezing her hand back. "Deal."
And with that, Maeve called out to the other stylists, and they left, leaving me alone in the quiet of the room, waiting for Sylus to arrive.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone