Chapter 14:

Scarlet stood at the front of the spacious, well-lit classroom, her black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She wore a simple yet elegant black blazer over a white blouse, paired with tailored trousers that gave her a professional yet approachable look.

She stood at the head of the class, a large drafting table spread before her. Swatches of fabric, detailed sketches, and a selection of tools lay neatly arranged, all reflecting her meticulous nature.

Around her, a group of ten advanced design students sat attentively, their sketchbooks open, pencils poised, ready to absorb every word. The walls of the room were lined with inspiring designs from past projects, mannequins dressed in experimental garments, and shelves stacked with books on design theory and history.

"Design," Scarlet began, her voice calm and measured, "is not just about creating something beautiful. It's about solving a problem, telling a story, and evoking emotion. Today, we'll focus on how to design for functionality without compromising aesthetics."

She walked over to a large whiteboard and wrote in bold letters: "BALANCE BETWEEN FORM AND FUNCTION."

"For advanced designers like you," she continued, turning back to face the class, "this is not just a principle, it's a challenge. How do you ensure that your designs serve a purpose while still making a statement?"

The students nodded, and Scarlet began pacing the room, her heels clicking softly on the floor. "Let's take an example," she said, gesturing to one of the mannequins. The mannequin was dressed in a flowing gown made of layered organza, the fabric catching the light and giving it an ethereal quality.

"This gown is visually stunning, but imagine it being worn by a performer on stage. How would it hold up under stage lights? Would it allow for movement? Would it complement or hinder the performance?"

She walked between the rows of desks, glancing at the works-in-progress.

"Remember," Scarlet said, her voice clear and authoritative, "fashion is not just about creating beautiful clothing. It's about telling a story, solving a problem, and making a statement. Each of your designs should have a purpose."

She turned to the class. "What do you think? Suggestions?"

A student named Elise raised her hand. "We could consider using lighter fabrics or incorporating stretchable panels for easier movement."

Scarlet nodded, smiling slightly. "Good. But what about the stage lights? What happens to organza under heat?"

Another student, Marco, chimed in. "It could lose its structure or even burn if the lights are too intense. Maybe we could line the fabric with a heat-resistant material?"

"Excellent observation," Scarlet said, walking back to the board. She wrote down their points: "Lightweight fabric," "Stretchable panels," "Heat-resistant lining."

Some students had opted for modern silhouettes, while others drew on historical references. Scarlet paused beside a young man sketching an elaborate evening gown.

"Ethan," she said, pointing to the hemline he'd drawn, "this is a bold choice, but consider the practicality of movement. If your client can't walk comfortably, the design fails, no matter how stunning it looks."

Ethan nodded, quickly erasing and adjusting his sketch. She turned back to the class, her tone sharpening slightly. "Now, what about the visual impact? If we're adding functional elements, how do we maintain the drama and elegance of this gown?"

The students murmured among themselves, and Scarlet let them think for a moment before adding, "Remember, every decision you make as a designer has consequences. Altering one aspect of a design will affect the whole. That's why advanced design requires constant iteration."

Scarlet continued to another desk, where a woman named Mira was working on a structured pantsuit. Mira's design featured sharp, geometric lines and a unique use of asymmetry.

"This is intriguing," Scarlet said, studying the sketch closely. "The asymmetry is daring, but be cautious about balance. Too much weight on one side can throw off the overall look. Perhaps consider softening the shoulders or tapering the pants to even it out."

Mira made notes, her brow furrowed in concentration. Scarlet moved on, offering precise feedback to each student. Just as she was about to continue, there was a knock at the door. Scarlet glanced up to see Christine, her efficient assistant, standing there. Christine opened the door slightly and stepped inside, a professional yet slightly hesitant look on her face.

"Ma'am," Christine said softly, "just a reminder, you have a meeting with Mr. Cambridge today."

Scarlet nodded, maintaining her composure. "Noted. What time?"

Christine hesitated briefly. "It's a dinner meeting, ma'am. You'll need to leave around dinner time."

Scarlet's gaze flicked to the students, who were all now watching the exchange with curious eyes. She gave Christine a slight nod. "Understood. I'll be ready. Thank you."

Taking the cue, Christine quickly exited the room, closing the door behind her. Scarlet turned back to her class, her expression calm and professional. "Apologies for the interruption. Let's get back to it."

Next, Scarlet led the class through a draping exercise. She demonstrated how to pin and shape fabric directly onto a mannequin, turning it into a three-dimensional form. Her hands moved with practiced ease, transforming a simple piece of silk into an elegant mock-up of a dress.

"Draping allows you to experiment with shapes and proportions in a way flat sketches can't," she explained. "It's a dialogue between you and the fabric."

The students followed her lead, working on their own mannequins. Scarlet moved through the room, offering guidance. She showed one student how to create pleats without bulk and helped another refine a neckline.

"Don't fight the fabric," she advised. "Work with its natural properties. If it resists, it's telling you something."

She walked over to a table at the center of the room, where a collection of fabrics, sketches, and tools had been laid out. "Now, I want each of you to pick one material from this table and design something functional yet aesthetically striking. You have ten minutes to sketch your ideas. After that, we'll discuss them."

The students immediately got to work, their pencils moving rapidly across the pages of their sketchbooks. Scarlet moved around the room, observing their progress, occasionally offering quiet feedback. "Good use of layering here," she said to one student. "But think about the weight, will it be practical for the wearer?"

To another, she remarked, "Your silhouette is interesting, but it feels a bit static. How could you add more dynamism?"

As the ten minutes elapsed, Scarlet clapped her hands lightly. "Time's up. Let's see what you've come up with."

One by one, the students presented their sketches, pinning them to a board at the front of the room. Each design was unique, showcasing the individuality and creativity of the students. Elise had sketched a structured jacket made of recycled denim.

With hidden compartments for carrying small items, a perfect blend of sustainability and practicality. Marco had designed a dress with detachable panels that could transform it from formal to casual in seconds.

Scarlet nodded approvingly at each presentation, occasionally challenging the students with questions. "Why did you choose this fabric? How does it enhance the functionality of the design? What compromises did you make, and were they worth it?"

When the last student had finished, Scarlet stepped back and looked at the board, now filled with a variety of designs. "What you've done here is the essence of advanced design," she said. "You've taken a concept and elevated it, balancing creativity with practicality. But remember, the real test comes when these designs are brought to life. Sketches are just the beginning."

She glanced at the clock and realized their time was almost up. "For your assignment," she said, "I want each of you to choose one of these designs and create a prototype. Focus on the details, stitching, fit, material choice. We'll review them in our next class."

The students nodded, gathering their materials as the session came to an end. Scarlet waited until everyone had packed up before addressing them one last time. "Great work today. I'm looking forward to seeing how these ideas evolve. Remember, every design is a reflection of who you are as a creator. Make it count."

As the students filed out, some chatting excitedly about their projects, Scarlet remained behind, taking a moment to review the sketches on the board. She felt a quiet satisfaction, knowing she was helping to shape the next generation of designers.

Left alone in the room, Scarlet took a moment to organize the materials on the table. Her thoughts briefly turned to the dinner meeting with Mr. Cambridge. Though she preferred to focus on her work, she understood the importance of networking and maintaining professional relationships.

She glanced at the clock, noting that she had just enough time to prepare before heading out. With a satisfied sigh, Scarlet turned off the lights and left the room, ready to face whatever challenges the evening might bring. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her of the dinner meeting.

***

Scarlet walked briskly toward the sleek black car waiting at the curb. Her heels clicked against the pavement, a sound that usually signified confidence but tonight carried a tinge of frustration. As she slid into the back seat, she pulled out her phone and dialed Ha-joon.

The line connected, and his voice came through, calm and steady. "Yes, Red?"

"I'll be late today," Scarlet said, her tone professional yet soft. "I have a dinner meeting with Mr. Cambridge."

There was a slight pause on the other end before Ha-joon responded with a nonchalant, "Sure, I'll just take my guests home. You take care."

Scarlet hesitated, her brows furrowing. "It's a dinner meeting," she repeated, giving him an opening to inquire further or at least show a hint of concern.

"Sure, sure," he said dismissively. "Take care, Red. I'll head home soon."

Scarlet sighed as the call ended, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "How could he not even ask about the meeting or offer to accompany me?" she thought. The indifference stung, though she quickly shook it off. Rolling her eyes, she leaned back in her seat and stared out the window as the car pulled away from the curb.

Her secretary, Christine, was in the driver's seat, focused on the road. The silence in the car was heavy until Scarlet finally spoke. "Drive carefully, Christine. I'll need to be alert for this meeting."

Christine nodded, sensing her boss's mood but wisely choosing not to comment. Scarlet arrived at the upscale restaurant where the meeting was scheduled. The warm lighting and soft chatter of other diners provided a cozy backdrop, but Scarlet's mood was far from warm. She was led to a private table where Mr. Cambridge, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and an overly confident air, stood to greet her.

"Scarlet," he said, extending his hand. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

Scarlet offered a polite smile, shaking his hand firmly. "Thank you, Mr. Cambridge. Let's focus on the designs, shall we?"

"Of course, but please, call me Aiden," he said, his tone flirtatious.

Scarlet took her seat, pulling out her tablet and opening the files they were supposed to review. "I've prepared a few concepts based on the brand's target demographic," she began, sliding the tablet across the table.

Aiden barely glanced at it, his eyes lingering on her instead. "Scarlet, you're clearly brilliant. But tell me, do you ever take time to enjoy yourself? You work so hard."

Scarlet's jaw tightened, but she maintained her professional demeanor. "Work is my passion, Mr. Cambridge. Now, about the designs..."

He interrupted her, waving a hand dismissively. "Passion is important, but so is balance. A woman as beautiful as you should have someone to spoil her. Don't you agree?"

Scarlet leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing. "I believe professionalism is equally important, Mr. Cambridge. If we're not here to discuss business, I see no reason to waste any more of my time."

Aiden chuckled, clearly unbothered by her sharp tone. "Relax, Scarlet. I'm just trying to get to know the person behind the genius."

Scarlet's patience was wearing thin. She picked up her tablet and stood, her expression icy. "This meeting was supposed to be about your brand's future, not an excuse for casual conversation. If you're not interested in the work I've prepared, I see no reason to continue this."

Aiden's smug smile faltered. "Scarlet, wait..."

"No," she said firmly, cutting him off. "I don't tolerate unprofessional behavior. If you're serious about your brand, you can schedule a proper meeting during office hours. Good night."

Without another word, Scarlet turned and walked out of the restaurant, her heels clicking against the polished floor with purpose.

***

Ha-joon's sleek black car pulled into the grand circular driveway of his mansion. The house, with its towering pillars and sprawling lawns, stood like a regal crown on the hill. The lights from the chandeliers inside reflected through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, giving the entire property an ethereal glow.

Mrs. Kang, Ha-neul's mother, let out a gasp as she stepped out of the car. "이 집이 정말 아름답네요!" (This house is truly beautiful!) she exclaimed, clutching her son's arm.

Ha-joon smiled politely, though his nerves were beginning to creep up. He knew Scarlet had been busy lately, and the state of the house wasn't exactly what one would call "guest-ready."

"감사합니다, 이모." (Thank you, Auntie,) Ha-joon replied in Korean, bowing slightly out of respect. "안으로 들어가시죠." (Let's go inside.)

Ha-neul glanced at his cousin, a knowing smile tugging at his lips as if he could sense Ha-joon's unease. "형, 괜찮아요?" (Hyung, are you okay?) he teased quietly.

"괜찮아," (I'm fine,) Ha-joon muttered back, though the tightness in his tone betrayed him.

As soon as the grand double doors swung open, Ha-joon's worst fears were realized. The usually pristine marble floors were dotted with discarded shoes. Scarlet's cardigan was slung over the back of a couch, her scarf draped carelessly over a chair. To make matters worse, one of his dress shirts was hanging off the edge of the bannister, and a few books and magazines were scattered on the floor.

Ha-joon froze for a split second before springing into action. "어, 잠깐만요!" (Uh, one moment!) he said quickly, darting forward.

Mrs. Kang's eyebrows shot up, her gaze sweeping over the mess. "이게 뭐야? 네 집이 이렇게 지저분하다고는 상상도 못했어." (What is this? I never imagined your house would be this messy.)

"죄송합니다, 이모. 요즘 조금 바빠서..." (I'm sorry, Auntie. Things have been a bit busy lately...) Ha-joon stammered as he quickly grabbed the offending items and stuffed them into a nearby closet. He could feel Ha-neul's amused gaze on him and avoided looking at his cousin.

"바쁜 건 핑계야," (Being busy is just an excuse,) Mrs. Kang said, crossing her arms. "이렇게 큰 집에서 이렇게 엉망이라니, 믿기 힘드네." (I can't believe such a big house can be this messy.)

Ha-neul tried to diffuse the tension with a light chuckle. "엄마, 형은 혼자 살잖아요. 어쩌다 이럴 수도 있죠." (Mom, Hyung lives alone. It happens sometimes.)

Mrs. Kang shook her head but said no more, though her disapproving expression spoke volumes.

Once the main living room looked somewhat presentable, Ha-joon gestured toward the plush seating area. "이모, 여기 앉으세요." (Auntie, please have a seat.) Then, switching to English, he turned to the maids who had appeared at the sound of their arrival. "Clean the guest rooms and prepare dinner. Serve it in the main dining hall."

The maids nodded quickly and got to work. Ha-joon turned back to his guests, regaining his composure. "이모, 여행길에 피곤하셨을 텐데 조금 쉬세요." (Auntie, you must be tired from the journey. Please rest for a while.)

"그래야겠다," (I think I will,) Mrs. Kang agreed, sitting down on the plush sofa. She looked around the room again, this time focusing on its grandeur rather than its earlier mess. "정말 멋진 집이야. 이렇게 큰 집에서 혼자 산다니, 외롭지 않니?" (This is such an impressive house. Don't you feel lonely living here alone?)

Ha-joon hesitated, glancing at Ha-neul, who was now smirking openly. "혼자는 아니에요," (I'm not completely alone,) he admitted, though he didn't elaborate.

Mrs. Kang raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue further. Instead, she smiled. "그래도 너무 멋져. 이 집을 보면 정말 자랑스러워." (Still, it's so impressive. I'm truly proud when I see this house.)

"감사합니다, 이모," (Thank you, Auntie,) Ha-joon replied, bowing his head slightly.

As Mrs. Kang leaned back, seemingly content for the moment, Ha-neul leaned toward Ha-joon. "형, 방금 뭐 숨겼어?" (Hyung, what did you just hide?) he whispered mischievously.

"아무것도 아니야," (Nothing,) Ha-joon replied, keeping his voice low.

Ha-neul grinned. "당신 여자친구의 옷이었나요?" (Was it your girlfriend's clothes?)

Ha-joon shot him a warning glare, but Ha-neul just laughed. "형, 난 아무 말 안 할게." (Hyung, I won't say anything.)

"그럼 조용히 해," (Then keep quiet,) Ha-joon muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

Mrs. Kang, noticing their exchange, frowned. "뭐라고 속삭이고 있어?" (What are you two whispering about?)

"아, 그냥 하찮은 얘기예요," (Oh, just trivial things,) Ha-joon said quickly, waving it off.

As the maids prepared the dining room and brought out an array of dishes, Mrs. Kang's mood seemed to brighten. She complimented the food in Korean, marveling at the spread of traditional dishes Ha-joon had instructed the staff to prepare.

"정말 잘 차렸네," (This is so well-prepared,) she said, taking a sip of soup.

"스태프가 훌륭한 분들이에요," (The staff are excellent,) Ha-joon replied modestly.

Ha-neul, ever the peacemaker, kept the conversation light and cheerful, sharing anecdotes about his mother's antics during their travels. Despite the rocky start, the evening settled into a pleasant rhythm, the earlier tension melting away. As Ha-joon glanced at his aunt and cousin, he felt a flicker of relief. At least they didn't find Scarlet's pictures in the hallway.

***

The car ride back to the company was silent. Christine didn't dare ask what had happened, though Scarlet's tense posture and the stormy look in her eyes made it clear that the meeting hadn't gone well.

Scarlet stared out the window, her mind racing. She couldn't believe Ha-joon's indifference earlier. He didn't even care to ask about the meeting. "How could he trust a client with me, especially one as slimy as Aiden Cambridge?"

By the time they reached the office, it was nearing midnight. The building was quiet, the usual buzz of activity replaced by an eerie stillness. Scarlet stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the pavement as she made her way inside. Christine followed behind, carrying the tablet and files.

In the dim light of her office, Scarlet sat at her desk and powered up her laptop. She began reviewing the work she'd shown Aiden, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she made adjustments and added notes for future presentations.

Christine placed a cup of coffee on the desk. "Ma'am, are you sure you don't want to go home? It's late."

Scarlet shook her head. "I'll leave once I've finished. Thank you, Christine."

Her secretary nodded and quietly left the room. Alone, Scarlet leaned back in her chair, letting out a long sigh. The evening had been a disaster, but she wasn't one to dwell on setbacks. Pulling out her phone, she hesitated for a moment before dialing Ha-joon again. The phone rang twice before he picked it up.

"Red?" he said, his voice laced with concern this time.

"I'm back at the office," she said curtly. "The meeting didn't go as planned."

"What happened?" he asked, his tone softening.

Scarlet hesitated, debating whether to tell him about Aiden's behavior. Instead, she simply said, "Let's just say some people don't understand boundaries. I canceled the meeting and came back to work."

Ha-joon sighed on the other end. "I should've gone with you."

Scarlet's lips twitched into a small, bitter smile. "It's fine. I handled it."

There was a pause before Ha-joon said, "You always do."

"Good night, Ha-joon," Scarlet said, ending the call before he could say more.

She set her phone down and returned to her work, her resolve stealing. Scarlet didn't need anyone to protect her; she was more than capable of standing her ground. But as she worked late into the night, she couldn't help but wonder why Ha-joon didn't see that she sometimes wished he'd care just a little more.