"Hey~"
"Hey— HEY! SANDRA!" Greg shouted, already pulling her into a hug before she could react. Sandra laughed. "Is this really how you greet your boss?" The warm, easy laugh lingered between them.
The rest of the staff piled into the hug. Amused, Sandra let herself get swept up in it.
"Whoa, what's going on, guys? Did you all suddenly realize how important your boss is?" Sandra asked, eyes shining with a kind of warmth she hadn't felt in a while.
"Oh, that's impossible, Sandra." Greg deadpanned, shrugging off her expectations instantly.
"Typical." Well — she already knew her employees too well. "Did you guys miss me?" Her lips curved into a hopeful smile. Little did she know—
"C'mon, what are you even talking about, Sandra?" Greg arched a brow. And there it was — heartbreak.
"Right. Must've been dreaming." She nodded, accepting that they'd never actually say it. "Fine. Back to work, all of you. Enough expectations from me." She clapped, shooing them off — except for one pair, who stood there smiling softly at her. She smiled back, walking over.
"Anything?"
They shook their heads, then added, "We actually did miss you, Sandra." Sandra's eyes lit up, a familiar, gentle smile spreading across her face.
"I know," she said, walking on.
Her smile lingered with every person she passed, something she could hold onto. She made her way to the one place she'd been thinking about the whole time — the studio. Her gaze drifted over the designs hanging on the mannequins. "A few more days," she murmured, stepping inside — only to feel someone watching her every move.
Amy.
Their eyes met and held — something unspoken passing between them, tight and burning. The coldness in their stare didn't ease. If anything, it only deepened.
"Sandra." A familiar, worried voice. She looked over — there stood Glenda.
"Hey," Sandra said. "Um, Glenda, can you help me with this dress?" Amy cut in, pulling Glenda away right in front of her. Sandra's brows furrowed, watching them go.
"What's her deal?" she muttered, expression tightening.
She shrugged it off and walked over to Greg instead — only to overhear something else.
"Did you hear? Seems like Glenda's not the boss-lady around here anymore," one of the makeup artists whispered, giggling. "Wait, what? How come?" the other asked.
"Isn't it obvious? They seem to be, you know — together."
The words landed heavy in Sandra's head. Her eyes widened, tension twisting through her. She spun around.
"Hey. Cut it out. She already has a boyfriend, and she's not gay either."
It came out loud — loud enough to reach exactly who it needed to. Amy heard it the second she stepped out of the dressing room, hands frozen on her top, eyes locked on Sandra's confident expression. The shock didn't stop there — it spread, like a second wave, straight to Glenda.
"Don't go pairing her up with whoever pops into your head, girls!" Sandra said — loud, but not hollow.
"...Ah." Their enthusiasm dropped for a beat — then, "So you're fine being 'shipped' with your manager, then? Just not with any other woman?" Their smirks sent a shiver down Sandra's spine. She flinched as they crowded closer, now even more convinced of their theory.
"Weirdos!" Sandra waved them off. "But I guess I don't mind it in a friendly sense. I'm the boss — I decide where things go around here." It came out more dramatic than any "boss lady" line ever could. And just like that, the girls' Sandra-Glenda fantasy played out right in front of the one person who'd be hit hardest by it — with absolutely no idea what was coming.
Needless to say, neither Sandra nor Glenda were ready for what Amy was about to bring down on them.
"Aw~ now THAT sounds way more— DRAMATIC!" Greg said, instantly killing the mood. Sandra shot them all a look, and the girls did too — except for one.
Amy.
She was still standing there, having watched the whole exchange unfold in plain view. Her expression darkened, something fierce and gloomy burning behind her eyes.
"Glenda," she called — hollow, cold. Glenda snapped back to reality, eyes on Amy. "Y— yes?"
"I guess we have a lot to talk about tonight."
She walked off, leaving Glenda's heart pounding hard enough to nearly bring her to her knees. Pretty pitiful, honestly.
"This woman... why can't she just keep her mouth shut?" Glenda muttered, sniffling. Sandra glanced at her and walked over deliberately. Glenda looked up the moment Sandra's sneakers came into view.
"What do you want now?" Glenda said flatly. Sandra crouched down, tilting Glenda's chin up with a finger. "You," she whispered.
Glenda swatted her hand away. "I'm serious."
"Fine."
"What?"
"Everyone noticed I was gone except you. Did you even try to reach me?"
"...What are you talking about? Only say something if you actually know what you're saying."
"Oh, really? Then enlighten me — what should I know?"
"Sandra, you're only being dramatic for no reason."
"Oh, perfect — now that I'm actually asking for answers, you brush it off with that line. I'm not the dramatic one here, Glenda. You're the one not making sense."
"What kind of logic is that?" Glenda called after her, but Sandra was already walking off. Glenda sighed — one glance through the door told her everything.
There — Sandra and Amy, standing still, locked in a stare. Whatever was burning between them showed absolutely no sign of backing down.
"Amy, st—" Glenda started, but Amy cut her off. "No, Glenda. I need to settle this today."
Sandra arched a brow, tilting her head with a dry, mocking scoff. "'Settle this'? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic, Amy?"
"I'm not, Sandra," Amy said, cold and flat. The mockery drained from Sandra's face, replaced by something harder, more confused.
"What's your problem, then?" Sandra asked. "We were fine when you first started here. What changed?"
"We were fine at first because I didn't know who you really were," Amy said. "But now I see it — you're the obstacle. And I can't stand it anymore."
"Obstacle? How am I an obstacle to you, Amy? I never made you feel like you didn't belong here. You've always mattered to me — a lot. I don't get where this is coming from."
"But Glenda mattered the most to *me*, Sandra. And I can't stand you taking her away."
"...I'm not taking her anywhere, Amy. And honestly — you're completely misreading whatever's going on between me and Glenda."
Sandra, stunned, glanced at Glenda, then back to Amy.
"Sorry — but let me ask you something, Amy. Glenda already has a boyfriend, and they're getting engaged in the new year. Did you know that before you said all this?"
"Recently. But I don't think it'll get that far."
"What? How could you possibly know that?"
"Because I—"
"Amy. Enough."
"Let her know, Glenda. I'm done hiding it."
"It's not necessary. You're just dragging this out further."
"What? Hiding what?"
"Have you ever wondered how Glenda convinced me to model for you — instead of Jovan?"
"Amy. I said stop."
Silence stretched between them. Sandra's brows knit as she searched Amy's face — calm, unshaken. Glenda, meanwhile, pressed her palms against her temples, anxiety eating her alive.
"I'll tell you. I only agreed on one condition. Love."
"...What?"
"I was already in love with Glenda — back when she was still modeling herself. But I also knew she'd never been with a woman before. So when she came to me, asking me to model for you, I saw my chance. I told her I'd agree — only if she got into a relationship with me."
"...!"
It was too much. Sandra couldn't even bring herself to turn around. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Something inside her felt like it had just slipped away.
Her fingers curled into fists. Her face darkened. "Why... would you do this, Glenda?" Her voice came out strained, barely controlled. Glenda's expression cracked with shock, while Amy simply watched it all unfold.
"Sandra... I only wanted to help you out."
"Just stop." Sandra whispered. "Just stop all of this!" She spun around, tears spilling down flushed cheeks. Every ounce of her anger gathered into her fist — and she struck Glenda, straight across the cheek.
Glenda staggered sideways. Amy rushed to her, almost satisfied. Glenda looked hollowed out, shock written across her face — she never imagined that trying to help could lead to this.
"Are you insane? Have you lost your mind, Sandra?" Amy lunged for her collar, but Glenda pulled her back immediately.
"Stop defending her."
"I'm not defending anyone, Amy."
Glenda grabbed Sandra's chin, forcing her head up. "I did this for your future — not out of pity, and I sure as hell don't need your gratitude." Her voice was cold, rough — more warning than comfort.
Sandra shoved her away. "Gratitude, my foot! I asked you to find a model — not for some twisted price tag attached to it. I don't want your sacrifices, Glenda. You've already done enough for me — more than I can ever pay back. And that gratitude? It's just become another weight on my shoulders!"
"...I never asked you to pay me back, Sandra."
"But I can't just ignore everything you've done for me, Glenda. You think you're helping — but all you're doing is piling more unspoken debt onto me."
"So now, helping someone makes you a burden to them?"
"Yes. So stop. All of it. And... send her back to Jovan. I don't want her here anymore."
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