"I didn't do it! Jenn, you have to believe me." David's voice rang through Jenn's mind. He has just been arrested for embezzlement of company funds by his employer. Jenn stood there, watching her brother being forced into the van and packed outside the company. "I believe him. A voice said from the crowd of staff who gathered to witness David's arrest. Jenn couldn't say a word; tears swelled up in her eyes, "I will prove your innocence, David; you're not alone in this. I will be right by your side, David." that was all she could say before the tears in her eyes escaped and busted into wails. She cried as she watched him be driven off to detention.
Sitting at the tiny desk in her shoebox apartment in Brooklyn, Jenn Douglas, her feet on the faux-leather footstool, her long, dark tousled hair gathered into a messy low ponytail that swayed as she worked, studied the sketch on the battered drawing board in front of her, and letting the light from the dusty table lamp play over the paper to reveal the shadows of her fingers arresting the curve of a line here, guiding a single biro-stroke there until the new dress in the drawing snagged her concentration all over again.
The tiny studio was choked with fabrics on bolts, sewing machines, and mannequins at different stages of seedling, dress, or birth. Although her spirit was rifling through her studio, a chaos of paint splatters and glistening rags, there was no nearer scene to Jenn's thoughts than that of her brother, her whole world. And so, there it was. David.
She hadn't been able to save the same David, the same David she had made vows to do anything to protect—not that you could call it protection at this point.
Her brother David had been arrested early that morning, charged with stealing from the company he worked for. Jenn knew David better than anyone, and she knew he was innocent. David was indeed guilty of many things—kind, loyal, and hardworking; he was not a thief. The arrest was a travesty, and Jenn intended to prove his innocence. However, making good of this intention would require money, which Jenn didn't have.
Her stomach felt suddenly knotty, her head empty. The legal costs were too much, not to mention the fine or restitution she might have to pay. David mustn't go to prison for something he hadn't done! Her hand with the paper stilled, and Jenn gave an audible sigh. Closing her eyes, she let the air out of her lungs. The ringing tone brought her back to the situation. Her phone was ringing.
It was David on the screen. She picked up. "David?" 'Hi, Jenn. How are you?'
"Doing great," she replied. "David, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"It's all right, Jenn," David said, his voice forced. I just spoke with my attorney. He's working on getting me out on bail, but it doesn't look good," he said.
Jenn's heart sank. "Don't worry, David. We'll figure this out. I promise."
"I know,' David said, the doubt heavy in his voice.' I hate that you have to deal with this. It's not fair.
"We are family, David. This will all be all right.' We'll get through this." We're family.' Hang in there.' Hang in there, okay?
"Okay," David replied softly. "I love you, Jenn." "I love you too, David. Stay strong."
Jenn put the phone down and sat back in her chair. Her eyes lingered towards the ceiling as she tried to hide the tears. She could not give in now, not after what had just happened. She could hear the sobs escaping David; she was powerless to help her. Not now. Jenn stood up. She walked over to the window and faced the city. Brooklyn was shining from the city's light while she was disillusioned from the darkness inside her soul.
She needed a break, an escape. She needed to distract herself from the stress of it all. She spotted a flier on her bulletin board—a fashion show in Manhattan that night. Something organized by her rival, sure, but something where she wouldn't need to talk to anyone — she could remain anonymous. You have to get out of your house once in a while. There was nothing to lose other than her money. She could use some air, too. She would go. Perhaps it would help.
She changed into a little black dress, put her hair into a bun, drew some eyeliner over her tired black eyes, pushed the thought of David to the back of her brain, and went to the subway, trying to focus on the show.
The luxury of the place amazed her. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling give a warm glow to the venue. The women wore fancy dresses and expensive jewelry, while the men wore elegant suits. They sipped champagne and whispered as they waited for the show to begin.
Jenn felt uncomfortable as she glanced around the room, but she straightened her shoulders and picked up her chin. She belonged here, after all. It made sense that she was here. Bracing herself, she ducked under the rope to take a place near the back, behind the pseudo-celebs in the front row where the action typically commenced. She buckled herself in to watch the performance.
She watched as the lights went down and the first model came out. The overall effect of the designs was stunning. One after another, each model looked more beautiful than the last, and Jenn could only watch them parade down the runway without a single thought in her head. In the end, after all two thousand models walked around in circles, a piano followed them both. But there was no repentance for Jenn. There was no extinction. There was a new beginning. She came out to the very last beat of music.
It was at the intermission that everything changed. She was gazing at an adorable dress on display when she felt a bump at her elbow. She turned to say, 'I'm sorry,' but the words died in her throat. She was looking into the eyes of Dave Peters.