Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I felt so many emotions as I took it all in. The girls had decided to walk hand-in-hand, and that was so sweet. Every piece was exactly what I wanted it to be, a juxtaposition of edgy and soft, wild and refined. At one point, JoJo whispered, “Oh Hal, it’s all just so gorgeous.”
Last up was the wedding dress, in all its glory. It was hand-painted silk, miles of tulle, and pure, joyous fantasy. When it appeared, an audible gasp went through the crowd. It looked wild and ethereal and otherworldly, and it was unapologetically beautiful.
The model was a young man who’d spent years as a ballet dancer, and he fucking killed it. I’d told him he could do whatever he wanted on the runway. He started off taking a few steps before breaking into a run and leaping into the air in a perfect grand jeté, the dress’s train billowing like a cloud. The audience gasped again, and I laughed and started crying at the same time, because I was overcome with joy.
After that, as all six models walked the runway in a line, Ryder whispered, “Listen to that, Hal. That’s for you.”
The applause was thunderous. I could hear JoJo cheering as she panned her phone to show me the audience. “It’s a standing ovation, Hal,” she said, as tears streamed down my face. “You killed it, just like I knew you would.”
Ryder squeezed my hand as I whispered, “They like it.”
He shook his head. “No. They absolutely love it.”
I started laughing when Vee and Kit appeared on the stage. They were carrying a life-size cardboard cutout that had probably started out as Ozzy Osbourne, judging by the hair and the all-black outfit. They’d printed a picture of my face and stuck it on the cutout, along with letters that spelled out my name across its chest. As a finishing touch, they’d dressed it in one of my long, black cardigans.
I dried my eyes as they left the stage and the next student was announced. JoJo was recording the whole show for me, so I decided to watch the rest later. I set aside the laptop, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “That’s it,” I said. “I’m done with school.”
“Way to go out on top. Your collection was the best one by far.”
“You’re biased, so of course you’d say that.”
Ryder smiled at me. “I’m calling it like I see it.”
“I love the response it got. Of course, it helped that my models were amazing, especially my ballet dancer.”
“He was great, but your gown made the audience gasp even before he did that jump.”
“That felt really good.” I gently rubbed his shoulder and asked, “Should I step out for a bit, so you can get some rest? It’s been a busy day.”
“Definitely not.”
“Okay, but you have to promise to tell me if you get tired.”
“I realize falling and breaking my hip makes me seem like I’m a hundred and fifty and completely frail, but I really am okay.”
“You’re not okay, Ry. You had major surgery.”
“Fine. I’m not okay, exactly. My hip is throbbing, I’m on enough drugs to take down a rhino, and I can’t put any weight on my leg for the next six weeks.”
“Six to ten.”
“That’s what they said, but I plan to kick physical therapy’s ass and be back to where I was much quicker than those estimates.”
I already knew he was going to be stubborn and try to do too much too soon, so I’d have to keep reminding him to give his body a chance to heal. For now, I let him change the subject with, “Yesterday, you mentioned doing some soul searching when it came to your career. I’d like to hear about that.”
“A few things started to become clear to me while I was designing that collection. I asked myself what I really want out of my career, and you know what? The answer isn’t a lot of money, prestige, or any of the usual marks of success. That was always what other people wanted for me, and what I thought I had to achieve to prove myself to my parents, my ex, and every person who ever doubted me or didn’t take me seriously. But fuck that.”
Ryder nodded. “I’m glad you said that. So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is, I’m happiest when I let my creativity run wild, and I feel most fulfilled when I’m making prom dresses for LGBTQ kids, or sewing a pretty dress for my beautiful trans housemate, or making something for myself that flips traditional ideas about gender. Those things make me feel like what I’m doing matters.”
“I can see why.”
“I guess it’s going to mean starting my own label, so I can make what I want,” I said. “I also want to continue donating prom dresses to young people in our community, but I want to design and custom-make them. I just have to figure out how to pay for that.”