The buzz of excitement within the workplace hit me like a freight train as soon as I open the door. Fashion designers were hunched over their sketchbooks, worrying over their next garment. Seamstresses and clothing designers were busying themselves over their sewing machines, refusing to let anyone distract them. Make up artists were buzzing, squealing with excitement toward one another and jumping with joy. Even interns were happily skipping through the corridors, anticipating what's going to happen an what all the commotion is for.

Thinking nothing of it, I run my fingers through my hair with a small shake of my head, expecting the news to be something rather light than exhilarating. People often made a big deal over nothing. Last time the atmosphere was this excited, was when we got a dishwasher in the staff room. Which, to be fair, was a great positive so everyone didn't leave their manky mugs stained with coffee on the side. Our staff room was nothing special, the coffee machine had broken recently due to human default (no one had owned up to it though) and the kettle was close to dying.

Maybe we finally got a new coffee machine.

Smiling to myself, I wrap my hand around the handle of the door and push it open, expecting to see my client ready to have their makeup done in the chair. Only to realise that it's empty. Not a single person in sight. No model. No belongings either. The room was completely bare save for the reams of makeup, a sofa, a table and a vanity mirror with lights around it... was I not supposed to come in today? Do I even have a model today? Humming in confusion, I shut the door and head toward my mentor.

Miss Juniper always knew what was going on. She was the first to know everything. The boss and her got on really well. She knew who was getting fired, when they were hiring a new model or a new makeup artist, when someone was getting a pay rise or a big advance. After all, she was rather friendly with the boss (take that as you will). She was a lovely woman, in her mid forties, who always put others before herself despite her laid back nature. I don't think I've ever seen the woman stressed.

"Ah! There you are!" Miss Juniper hums with a smile, nursing an early morning coffee, her eyes shimmering with something that I could only describe as pure excitement, "I have some news for you!"

"What is it?" I ask softly, confused as well as intrigued, running my fingers over the spine of my sketchbook, biting my lip nervously as she clears her throat, "Is it good news?"

"Of course it is, don't worry your little head," she says patting my (h/c) hair gently, sending me a huge smile as she hands me a folder, unable to contain her excitement as she squeals gently, "It's very, very good news,"

"What's this?" I ask tilting my head as I open the folder gently, a stone slamming into the bottom of my stomach as I gawk at the title, "O — oh my god... I — is this for real?"

"It is!" She squeals happily, clapping her hands in front of her person with a huge smile, "I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!"

My eyes glued to the contents with wide eyes. It had my name on the front. Meaning that I finally got promoted! This folder, in the future, will hold many more of my designs. Inside the folder, revealed all the designs that I had created for this new model as well as the upcoming clothing that the said model will wear. The grin now pushing across my lips begun to make my cheeks hurt. I couldn't pull my attention away from it. I couldn't believe this was happening! Was I dreaming?

For months and months I've been trying to boost my post at the modelling agency. To show the bosses and the fashion designers that I can produce styles that look amazing. Working hours on end. Even working through the late hours of the evening until the early hours of the next morning. And finally. Finally.

All that hard work is paying off!

"I — I'm getting promoted?!" I ask ecstatic, the weight of fear lifting off my shoulders as I hold the folder close to my chest and jump up for joy. My wings fluttering happily in excitement, lifting my feet a couple of centimetres off the ground, I couldn't even fight the smile that's spreading across my lips, "Oh my god! That's amazing! I can't believe it!"

"Yes, we have recruited a new model, a famous model at that, and he adores your designs," she explains with a smile, patting my shoulder as I vibrate with excitement, "He's around your age too so hopefully you'll both get along well,"

"He's famous?!" I ask excitedly, my grin getting even wider if it were possible, clutching at the folder tightly as I squeal, "Who is it? Can I know? Pretty please! I wanna know who it is!"

"I'm not really supposed to say but... I want to tell you anyway because it's such a big deal," she says with a huge smile, giggling at my sheer happiness, "But you can't tell anyone,"

"I can do that," I reply with a smile, giggling sheepishly as she beckons me toward her to whisper in my ear, her hands covering the view of her lips just in case if anyone can lip read, "Spill it,"

"It's Hawks, the Number Two Hero!" she whispers gently before pulling away just as quick to send me a big grin, expecting me to jump up in excitement.

It was like the carpet had been pulled from under my feet. My day, almost instantly, became ruined. Hawks. Keigo Takami. Are you serious?! I left my high school to get rid of him and get away from him, now you're telling me he's back and I have to work with him! Why was life doing this to me?! My smile almost instantly began to sour. My wings halting in their excited flutters. My eyes twitched lightly too. A small groan leaving my lips as I tease the corner of my folder with my nail, biting my lip.

"Are you serious?" I ask, looking toward her, sighing gently as she nods with a big grin, my eyes look everywhere other than toward my mentor, "Well then..."

"Aren't you happy?" She asks tilting her head concerned at my sudden mood change, sending me a reassuring smile, "Are you stressed about this already? It'll be okay, he loves your designs so don't worry about disappointing him,"

"N — no... um... can... uh... is there not any other models for me to work with?" I ask softly looking toward Mrs Juniper who coos gently, thinking that I'm just stressing over nothing, not even realising the history I have with Hawks, "Please?"

"Oh, honey, you're so adorable worrying over this," she coos, wrapping her arms around me to hold me close, rubbing my back with a small smile, "Don't be so afraid, if I didn't think you'd be good enough for the job then I wouldn't have put your designs through, he loved your designs! You'll do great!"

"No, Mrs Juniper I don't think—" I begin to talk before being shushed, pressing the tip of her finger against my lips to stop me from speaking, a small groan leaving my lips as she sends me a big grin.

"Look, this is your chance to finally move up the ladder," she says, trying to 'hype me up' and make sure that there's nothing to be 'stressed over' by working with him, "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, you have to take it,"

"R — right..." I hum biting my lip, sending the head makeup artist a smile, swallowing my fear before darting away from her. I head toward one of the empty dressing rooms and slump against the closed door; wanting to get away from it all, gently resting my head against the wooden appendage, "You have got to be kidding me... this cannot be happening..."

Taking a deep breath, I look toward my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers through my hair. Why was this happening to me? Am I getting bullied at work too? Am I going to have to give up on my dream job to get away from him? I worked so so hard to get where I was... and he's my chance of becoming a famous makeup artist! How does this work?! Why did it have to be him?! Grabbing a fistful of it as I stare at my reflection. Desperately, I try to blink back tears. Shaking my head as I grip my hair in frustration.

This was bittersweet...

All this time, I've been dreaming for an opportunity like this. To work under amazing models. To become a makeup artist that people idolise and look up to and ask for advice, maybe to even mentor when I'm in my mature years. To move up the ladder and go from being an intern and a trainee.

And he's my chance to better myself?...

I couldn't just hand my notice in. Of course it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. People would give their right arm to be the makeup artist of the Number Two Hero: Hawks. I wouldn't. I wouldn't even want to touch his face. But maybe that was a good thing... there wouldn't be a scandal. He wouldn't be interested in me because, after all, he ruined my high school years. He bullied me... I couldn't get my own back, unless I wanted to risk my job. I couldn't do that...

But I needed this to work...

It's just a job. I don't have to be chummy with him...