“Huh!” Shannon huffed. “Qualified or not, we’ll see when the result comes out.”
“Haha, is that supposed to be funny? How can she compete with our director with that design? Don’t be ridiculous,” Abigail raved.
Shannon was about to refute when Ashlyn tugged on her arm, appeasing, “There’s no point arguing with an ignoramus.”
“Who are you calling an ignoramus?!” Abigail snapped.
“Uh, whoever who just answered me?” Ashlyn smirked.
“You!” Abigail screeched, springing up to her feet, drawing the attention of the guests who were there sitting quietly watching the show.
“Abigail, calm down.” Megan pressed her down to her seat in embarrassment. “They’ll get slapped in the face when the results come out.”
Abigail sat down again in a huff. “Right! I shall put up with this for now!”
The winner of the first show of Fashion Week wouldn’t be announced until all the brands had finished their presentations on the first day.
By then, it would already be afternoon.
After Ashlyn, Shannon and the others had watched the show for half a day, it was soon time for lunch.
Somewhere at the venue, there was a fine French restaurant where models and guests could dine directly after the show.
Meanwhile, in a magnificent manor in Maredania.
Penelope and Mary had been here for two days.
Looking like country bumpkins visiting the city for the first time, the pair of mother and daughter had been staying in a European-style manor under the protection of many bodyguards and the services of countless maids.
It was as though they were living in a fictional world.
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