The more Alice thought about it, the more it burned. If things continued like this, Hera wouldpletely eclipse her, burying her under an avnche of sess. That idea made Alice panic. Deep down, she felt like <i>she</i> should be the one on top—Hera was supposed to be her foil, not herpetition.
Seeing Hera thrive so easily sent Alice spiraling with a mix of resentment and desperation.
<i>’This can’t be happening. I have to do something—anything—to pull Hera down from that pedestal! She can’t be better than me!’</i> Alice seethed, her eyes scanning the room with growing desperation.
Yet not once did she stop to ask herself <i>why</i>. Why did Hera have to be beneath her? Why did she deserve to be the star while others, like Hera, yed supporting roles?
The truth was, Alice had always believed the world should revolve around her—that people should bend to her will. In her mind, those with talent and beauty like Hera weren’t meant to shine on their own. They existed to highlight <i>her</i> brilliance, to be the backdrop against which <i>she</i> stood out.
But now, Hera wasn’t ying that part. And that reality was unraveling everything Alice thought she deserved.
Then, Alice’s eyesnded on something—or rather, someone—not far from Hera. And just like that, the unease bubbling in her chest vanished. A gleeful smile spread across her lips as she quietly made her way toward her target, waiting until she was sure the staff finished talking to her.
Hera, on the other hand, had caught sight of Alice from the corner of her eye. She noticed her slipping into a more secluded area backstage. Still, surrounded by event organizers and staff, Hera had no choice but to remain where she was, focused on final preparations. She had just handed over a copy of her digital presentation—her designs, which would soon be disyed on the massive screen that spanned the backdrop of the stage, ensuring every audience member could see the details clearly.
The staff chatted happily around her, bustling with excitement. They also had physical folders of each designer’s work to prepare for the judges. Since the judges’ seats were set farther away from the stage, it was the staff’s responsibility to deliver the folders in the correct order. It was essential everything be perfectly organized, as even a small mistake could disrupt the flow of the live broadcast.
Not long after, thepetition officially began. Though it was called apetition, it resembled more of a design conference and talent showcase—an opportunity for brands and investors to assess which designers showed the most promise and creative potential among the contestants who took the stage.
The auditorium was packed with a diverse audience: industry professionals, influential figures, and representatives from prestigious brands. The pressure in the air was overwhelming, and many of the presenters buckled under it. Some stuttered and trembled as they faced the crowd, unable to properly convey their design concepts. Others forgot to borate on their inspiration, the theme, or the creative process behind their work.
To make matters more intense, the judges were sharply critical during the interviews. They asked detailed questions, such as how long each contestant spent working on their designs, whether they created the digital presentation themselves, and even delved into the technical aspects of each piece. If the judges sensed even the slightest uncertainty, they pressed further, testing whether the designer truly understood their own work.
This strict line of questioning wasn’t just for show. Since the event was being broadcast live on an international channel, any incident, especially one involving giarism, could damage the reputation of the organizers and associated brands. The judges took it upon themselves to thoroughly evaluate each contestant, looking for inconsistencies or cracks in their knowledge that might reveal if the work wasn’t entirely their own.
Because of the judges’ thorough evaluations, each presentationsted no less than 30 minutes. Even contestants who didn’t present a full set were required to remain on stage, enduring the judges’ probing questions—almost like an investigation—before scores were given and the next designer was called up.
There were only a few dozen participants, champions and top contenders from around the world, yet the process dragged on. By the time the lunch break finally arrived, many were visibly exhausted from the relentless scrutiny. The judges were escorted to a private lounge to eat and recharge, while the participants were directed to a shared waiting area—arge room with benches where they could rest and have their meals.
When Hera took a seat, the weight of the morning hung in the air. Around her, she could hear soft sobs and quiet muttering. Some contestants were clearly shaken, overwhelmed by regret. The pressure had gotten the best of them, and they knew they hadn’t performed to their fullest potential.
Many wished they could redo their presentations—with more confidence, more rity—but it was toote. All they could do now was wait and wonder what the judges had written beside their names.
While Hera was waiting in the resting area, she suddenly heard familiar voices approaching—Athena, Liz, and Minerva had arrived, apanied by three bodyguards carrying baskets of food. Their entrance immediately drew everyone’s attention. Although the contestants’ families weren’t typically allowed inside, exceptions were made during breaks as long as there was a valid reason, and the staff, recognizing Hera’s group, had allowed them in.
"Babe, let’s eat something," Athena said, making her way to Hera with concern in her eyes. "You need your energy for the presentation. It’s basically a battlefield out there."
She nced around at the room full of contestants. Most of them, champions and top contenders in their respective countries, now looked pale and defeated. Being relentlessly questioned and scrutinized by the judges had taken a toll on them. Only a few had remained steady under the pressure—Hera was one of them. Alice was another.
Although the staff had already distributed meals to the contestants, Hera hadn’t touched hers. She’d been waiting for Athena. Deep down, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling about Alice. As the original female lead of the novel, Hera had no way of knowing what Alice might have plotted behind the scenes. Hera could only remain cautious against any overt attacks.
She had messaged Athena earlier to bring her food, just in case—but she didn’t expect her friends to arrive so boldly, drawing the attention of the entire room. Now, all eyes were on them.
As soon as Athena and the bodyguards reached Hera, one of the guards quickly unfolded a portable table while the other two began unpacking the baskets. Within moments, a modest spread wasid out—an assortment of sandwiches in various vors, a fresh fruit tter, crispy fried chicken, and fish and chips. It wasn’t a full-course meal, but it was a satisfying and clean lunch, more like a casual pic than a formal meal.
Athena had thrown this together on short notice, grabbing what she could from trusted vendors outside. She had been careful to choose food that was both safe and filling—because in her mind, it was better to eat something simple and secure than risk consuming anything questionable provided by the event organizers.
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Thank you, Goddesses Marlene Parker and Shell Rodriguez, for the Golden Ticket! Your support means so much to me! <3