Brooke paced anxiously in her office studio, fabric swatches scattered across every surface, the sewing machines humming a frantic tune in the other room. The fashion competition loomed just weeks away, and a cold dread settled in her stomach. She was nowhere near ready. Her initial excitement had given way to a paralyzing panic. The designs that had once flowed effortlessly from her mind now seemed muddled and uninspired.
She glanced at the half-finished dress on the mannequin, a sigh escaping her lips. It was a beautiful piece, but it lacked the spark, the originality she needed to stand out in the competition. She felt a wave of self-doubt wash over her. Had she bitten off more than she could chew? Was she truly cut out for this?
A call on her phone startled her, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. She picked it to find Kim, Lyse's assistant, calling her.
"Can we meet up at the usual place?" He asked.
