Before they could react further, the Sterling director walked in with a sharp, loud clap.
"Everyone, it's time! All models on the stage!"
The room burst into a buzzing hive of activity as the models scrambled out of the fitting room one after another.
Meeting Selina's unreadable stare with a simmering eye, Isabel whispered to Charles,
"I don't like her."
Isabel shot the two friends one last glare before walking away, her heels clicking bitterly against the glossy floor.
Selina didn't care what Isabel felt toward her, as long as Isabel still complied. Whether the latter liked it or not.
"That Isabel girl… she's a nut. I hope she doesn't give me more headaches before this event even starts," Selina murmured, striding toward Annabelle.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Annabelle said, yet the words sounded shallow and hollow to Selina's ears. Her expression soured with a flicker of guilt. "I'm so sorry for the things they said to you."
