As Simi arrived at Dami's studio, the evening sun had set below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over Lagos' bustling streets. The air was thick with excitement as she anticipated their celebration of the successful fashion show. When she stepped inside, she was met with a whirlwind of activity. Models were bustling around, trying on outfits while seamstresses worked diligently on last-minute alterations. The walls were adorned with sketches and fabric swatches, each piece telling a story of culture and innovation. It was a scene that filled Simi with inspiration and hope. "Hey, you made it!" Dami called out as he spotted her, his face lighting up with a smile that made her heart flutter. He wore a casual shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly stylish. "I would not miss it for the world," Simi said, returning his smile as she absorbed the vibrant atmosphere. "Come in! "I want you to see what I have been working on," he said, leading her deeper into the studio. Dami explained his vision for the collection as they walked through the space. "I want to revolutionise fashion in Nigeria," he declared passionately. "We have a lot of talent here that deserves to be seen on a global scale." Simi listened intently as Dami discussed his ideas for incorporating traditional Nigerian textiles into modern designs. "Imagine a world in which our designs can change people's lives," he said, his eyes beaming with excitement. "Where we can empower local artisans, create jobs, and celebrate our rich cultural heritage." Simi felt a surge of inspiration from his words, which struck a deep chord with her. She had always hoped to make an impact with her designs, but Gbolahan's expectations had clouded her vision. Listening to Dami rekindled her passion for fashion, reminding her of why she fell in love with it in the first place. "What are your dreams?" Dami enquired suddenly, turning to face her with genuine interest. Simi paused for a moment; it was a question she had asked herself many times but had never fully articulated. "I want to make pieces that reflect my heritage," she said slowly, looking down at her hands on the table. "But I also want to push the boundaries—explore new ideas and styles." Dami nodded encouragingly, his face thoughtful. "You have a unique perspective; do not let anyone take it away from you." "But my father..." Simi began, fighting against the familiar weight of obligation resting on her shoulders. "He has such strong opinions about what I should do." "Your father doesn't define your worth or your dreams," Dami said firmly, a hint of intensity in his voice that sent shivers down Simi's spine. "You have the ability to choose your own path." Simi looked into his eyes, seeking reassurance in the midst of her own internal turmoil. "What happens if I fail?" "Failure is part of the journey," Dami said, a reassuring smile on his face. "This is how we learn and develop. Besides, you will not know until you try." His words struck a deep chord with her, and a spark of determination lit up her heart. Simi had spent so much time under Gbolahan's shadow that she had almost forgotten what it was like to dream freely. "I want to be brave," she finally said, her voice full of determination. "I want to be brave," she finally said, her voice full of determination. Dami grinned broadly, his enthusiasm contagious. "Then let us make it happen! We can work together on something that reflects both of our visions." Simi felt a rush of excitement as she imagined working with someone who understood her passion and shared her dreams. "That sounds incredible!" she exclaimed, a smile breaking through as hope filled every fibre in her being. Simi felt more alive than she had in months as they continued to discuss ideas for their collaboration; it was as if Dami had reawakened a long-dormant part of herself. Finally, as dusk fell outside, Simi noticed the time and realised how late it had become. "I should probably go home," she said reluctantly, a pang of disappointment washing over her at the prospect of leaving this creative sanctuary. Dami smiled warmly and nodded in understanding. "Oh, of course! But let us keep the momentum going. I will send you some sketches tomorrow so we can keep brainstorming. "I would love that," Simi said enthusiastically, resisting the urge to stay just a little longer. Simi felt a sense of camaraderie growing between them as they walked towards the door—a bond formed by shared dreams and aspirations that went beyond familial obligations. Simi turned to Dami one last time before heading outside into the cool evening air. "I am grateful for today. "You have really inspired me." Dami met her gaze, a hint of something deeper passing between them. "Simi, you inspire me as well. "Never underestimate your worth." With those words lingering in the air like an unspoken promise, Simi stepped outside into the night, feeling energised by their connection while also struggling with everything going on back home. As they drove through the streets of Lagos, Simi could not shake the feeling that something significant was changing within her—that she might be able to carve her own path without losing herself. When Simi got home, she took a deep breath before entering; she knew Gbolahan would be waiting for her—his expectations looming overhead like dark clouds threatening rain—but tonight felt different. As she entered the house, the familiar scent of Abosede's cooking filled the air, reminding her of home while also heightening her anxiety. Gbolahan sat in the living room, his face stern as he looked up from his newspaper. "Where have you been?" he enquired sharply, leaving no room for informal conversation. "I was out celebrating my show with Dami," Simi explained, trying to maintain her voice. "We are collaborating on some designs." Gbolahan's brow furrowed, his disapproval clear. "I hope you are not distracted from your responsibilities." Simi sensed frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "This is also my responsibility!" "Fashion is my passion." "You need to focus on what is important," Gbolahan insisted, his voice rising slightly. "And right now, that means planning for your future." Simi clenched her fists, fighting back tears that threatened to spill over. "My future will include my dreams!" Gbolahan shook his head and his expression hardened. "You are naive if you believe you can pursue your dreams without consequences." Simi felt torn between anger and sadness as their argument heated up, caught between two seemingly incompatible worlds. Simi finally turned away from him, fighting against everything inside her that demanded compliance. "I am done arguing about this." With those words lingering in the air, Simi retreated to her room, feeling both empowered and defeated—torn between love for her family and desire for independence.