章 4: . Supermodel For A Day

"Get some water from the refrigerator!" Filo yelled, her forehead wrinkled as her eyes darted around. Scooping a handful of the water, she flickered drops on her face. Situ checked for her pulse and her breath.

"Her condition is stable," he breathed a sigh.

"Then get up already," Filo murmured under her breath, her eyes eagerly scanning the petite frame before her.

"You should refrain from asking her questions for now. She seems to be in trauma," Situ spoke.

"How do we get to communicate with her for the time being? You can't be here every time."

"Talk about timely opportunities, I'm planning to go for a month vacation. I planned to really look out for myself, but I could take her along; the exposure will work for her too."

Kil's eyes flashed with sympathy. Situ might look like a regular carefree citizen with little burden, but an inevitable lot was going on underneath.

"Mr. Canaan said to not allow her to leave this house."

"Mr. Canaan?" Situ enunciated as the lines of his forehead dipped into a frown.

"Yes, he casually walked in today; he seemed to know her."

A sneaky, knowing smile flashed on Situ's face but was gone before anyone could notice it.

"I'll talk to him about it."

"Thanks, be quick with it; can't tell how much of the being's temper I can handle, my nerves are burning up."

"You'll hear from me by tomorrow," Situ said with a wink as he walked out of the door.

Kil swiftly turned, his brain already alert on Situ's next move, to blow air on Kil's neck, an action that destabilizes him and can almost make him crumple on the ground.

Situ chuckled loudly before exiting the door.

Where Filo sat, her expression suddenly grew dim as she stared at the screen on her phone.

"Kil, make dinner," she murmured as she walked away. Getting into her room with a tacky decor of various hues of pink, fashion posters of different forms and sizes hung all around the walls, she flung herself on the neatly laid king-sized bed with a thump. With her head buried in the large white pillow as her eyes started to water, till it started to drip, till it started to pour.

The last thing which she staked her everything on, whose result will determine her career as a fashion designer, just flopped badly. Filo, despite being a literal light bulb, has always been insecure about many things. She wanted to be a runway model at first, but only skeletons could get a chance in that industry, and she, she was a well-fed bunny. Her gaze held a captivating contrast - one eye a clear, summer sky blue, the other an emerald green, like a sunlit forest, her skin glassy and supple.

She settled for being a fashion designer, empowering other people in their careers. It hadn't been long since she started to try marketing her works, but it wasn't looking like it was going to be successful. Whenever she summoned the courage to show up, she never gets the chance to show her work to the world; no one wanted to wear the clothes of a fatty. Just now, the fashion show she's been planning to showcase her line of clothes at for a very long while now got canceled.

As she cried, she felt a little hand touch her. She quickly rubbed her face on the pillow and sat up. She glanced at the clock that looked like a pink hat from afar; 30 minutes had passed. Nurna crashed her petite frame on Filo in a warm hug and rubbed her back.

Filo felt her mood being elevated and she sighed. Nurna got off the bed and stood by the side of the bed, facing the half-bent Filo in a butterfly position. The setting sun cast a soft glow on her small face; the large tangy red and black poster draping over a portion of the pink wall created a vibrant backdrop.

"Thanks for the hug." Filo sniffled, now calm. She straightened up to look at Nurna, and her jaw dropped. Nurna now had a proud smirk on her face as she rested her hands on her hips. Filo suddenly had a mischievous grin worn on her round face as an unsettling idea dropped in her mind.

She sprung up in "attack" as she grabbed Nurna's slender arm, dragging her into her "inner room" where all the magic about fashion happens.

Nurna looked around at the simple grey-walled room with no decor at all and plenty of lighting. There were lots of cloth racks arranged in sections in the room. Since they weren't on display, Nurna couldn't get the entirety of their design, but she sensed the superior exquisiteness that the line of clothing exuded even without being worn. It was a vibrant symphony of arrays of various colors of clothes.

Filo was happily moving around the room, clearing a space as she hummed. Occasionally, she would look at Nurna and suddenly giggle, shaking her body like she just got a date invite from her crush. She gauged Nurna's size and filled an empty rack with 7 sets of clothes; she ran back to her room and picked some accessories to match. After a bit more of running around, she was finally done. Her phone, mounted on a camera, with adequate lighting, she walked towards Nurna.

With minimal coaxing, surprisingly, she was able to convince Nurna to do what she desired most at the moment: to model for her. Nurna chose 4 of the clothes, and Filo decided to work with that.

With her minimal skill in photography, she took stunning pictures of Nurna, from angles where her face will not be so visible.

Nurna gawked in wonder as she saw Filo editing the pictures; the fact that she could see herself in that little object before Filo fascinated her.

Filo posted the shots on her anonymous account that she created for whenever she didn't want to be herself. She banked her trust in her 1176 followers to blow it up; she added a contact information to the post too. At the same time, she kept her expectation minimal.

A while after, her ringtone that sounded like a fusion of rock pop and nursery raps blared from her phone. She eagerly went for it, thinking it's her miracle calling unto her. To her disappointment and horror, it was Mr. Canaan on the phone. She fed on her digits as she contemplated on whether to pick the call or not. "Don't panic, he could be calling about something else," she told herself. The call connected.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mr. Canaan growled through his teeth with a controlled voice.

She hung up the call and went to the social app she posted the pictures on. The posts were no longer there. That means Mr. Canaan did see them.

She paced across her room as she let her fearful imagination raid her senses. Nurna was sitting on the bed, nibbling on the sugary-salty treat she got from Filo as reward for shots that supermodels would almost lose their soul trying to achieve. Shameless Filo.

Mr. Canaan called again, and she instantly picked. Before she could say anything, Nurna started to cough, the tempo of her wheezing getting higher by the second.

"Did you feed her nuts?" Filo heard Canaan gasped, showing her the severity of the situation she's gotten herself into.