My room is tiny, cluttered, and unapologetically nerdy—a chaotic shrine to everything I love.
There's a crooked poster of a T-pop BUS plastered on the wall, the tape barely holding on like it's fighting for its life.
The idols on it are frozen mid-performance, looking way cooler than I ever will.
Comic books are stacked everywhere—on my desk, under my bed, even forming a questionable tower beside my lamp that could collapse at any moment and take me out with it.
Honestly? It's either a nerd's paradise… or a certified disaster zone.
Right now, though, it was a gym.
Or at least… Nena's version of a gym.
"If you keep doing that, your brain will be as fresh as a daisy," Nena whispered like some kind of yoga instructor who drank too much caffeine.
We were upside down.
On the floor.
Balancing on our hands like two flamingos who forgot how legs work.
My arms were shaking.
My vision was blurry.
My soul had already left my body.
"Nena," I groaned, wobbling dangerously, "I don't think this is working."
"Focus," she whispered dramatically. "Feel the energy. Become one with the floor."
"I am one with the floor," I muttered. "I'm about to kiss it."
My arms gave up on life.
I collapsed.
Not gracefully either—just straight down onto my butt with a loud thud.
Nena dropped down a second later, landing lightly on her feet like she was born for this nonsense.
She crossed her arms and looked down at me with a smug little grin.
"Hmm… you don't know what real exercise is."
I stared at her. "If this is real exercise, I don't want fake either."
She laughed, plopping down beside me. "You're hopeless."
"And proud," I shot back, wiping imaginary sweat off my forehead.
Just as I was about to enjoy my well-earned rest—also known as lying on the floor doing absolutely nothing—the door burst open.
My mom walked in like she had breaking news.
Phone in hand.
Smile wide.
Energy unmatched.
"Nena," she announced, "someone called from your house. Said she's your maid and your dad wants to see you."
And just like that, she turned and walked out.
No explanation.
No follow-up.
Just chaos delivery and exit.
Nena froze.
Then slowly turned to me with the most dramatic pout I've ever seen.
"Aww… I have to go now…"
I grinned. "Yep. Go face your destiny."
She pointed at me. "You're enjoying this."
"A little."
She stood up, dusting herself off like she was about to attend a royal meeting instead of going home.
"Fine. I'll go. But if I don't come back—"
"You will," I cut in. "Your dad probably just wants to ask why you're upside down in someone else's house."
She gasped. "It's called training."
"For what? Cirque du Soleil?"
She ignored me, flipping her hair dramatically.
"See you at school."
"Yep. Try not to get grounded."
"No promises."
And just like that, she left.
Silence.
Beautiful, peaceful silence.
I lay back on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
Finally.
Peace—
"AYANA!"
Never mind.
The next day, the school theater greeted us like a haunted museum.
Dusty air.
Creaky stage.
Seats that sounded like they were screaming for retirement.
And at the center of it all—Mr. Rick.
Sunglasses on.
Coffee in hand.
Standing like he was about to direct the greatest show in history.
"Alright, my future stars," he announced dramatically, "today we prepare for greatness."
Liam leaned toward me and whispered, "Why does he sound like he's about to send us to war?"
"Because he is," I whispered back. "A fashion war."
We stood in our pairs.
Emma and Liam—already arguing.
Regina and Mark—well, Regina was trying. Mark looked like he wanted to disappear.
And then there was me…
And Ethan.
Standing beside me like a human statue in a perfectly tailored black suit.
I glanced at him.
Then at the stage lights reflecting off his shoes.
Then back at him.
"Hey," I said, squinting. "Are you… okay?"
"I am fine," he replied calmly.
"You're wearing a full suit. In this heat."
"Yes."
"We're indoors."
"Yes."
"You're sweating."
He wiped his forehead. "It's water."
I blinked. "From where? The air?"
He gave me a look. "You talk too much."
I gasped. "Excuse me? I'm carrying this partnership emotionally."
"You are carrying nothing."
"Wow. Rude."
Before I could continue my very necessary argument, Mr. Rick clapped loudly.
"OUTFITS!" he declared.
We all flinched.
"You will go. You will choose. You will MATCH. And you will SERVE looks."
Liam raised his hand. "All six of us?"
Mr. Rick didn't even hesitate. "Liam, stop talking."
"…Okay."
"Only partners match," he added, flipping his imaginary hair.
Then—dramatic pause.
"Dismissed."
Fast forward.
Park Avenue.
Fancy street.
Expensive vibes.
Even the air smelled rich.
I was pacing like my life depended on it.
"How am I supposed to beat Regina?!" I stressed, grabbing Nena's arm and shaking it like it owed me money.
Meanwhile, Nena was fighting for her life trying to eat her melting ice cream.
"Ayana—STOP—my ice cream—!"
I froze.
"Oh. Sorry."
She finally took a big bite and sighed in relief.
"Thank you."
"But Regina—"
"Ayana," she said, holding my shoulders. "Breathe."
"I am breathing!"
"You're panicking."
"Same thing."
She rolled her eyes.
"Listen. Regina is not perfect."
"She literally looks like she was built in a lab."
"And you," Nena said firmly, "are naturally pretty. You just don't see it."
I blinked.
"Really?"
"Yes. You just need a glow-up. Not a miracle."
I narrowed my eyes. "That sounded like an insult."
"It wasn't."
"It felt like one."
She laughed. "Your glasses already do half the work."
"My glasses?"
"Yes! They make you look cute. Like a smart owl."
"An owl?"
"A cute owl."
I sighed. "Great. I've always wanted to be a bird."
She nudged me. "You'll do fine. Just be confident."
I looked down at my outfit.
Then imagined Regina in designer everything.
Then sighed.
"Confidence is expensive."
"It's free," she corrected.
"I want a refund."
She laughed again, dragging me forward.
We stopped in front of a massive mansion.
White pillars.
Golden doors.
Garden that looked illegal to touch.
I stared.
"Do people actually live here?"
"Yeah," Nena said casually.
I turned slowly. "You're joking."
She smirked. "Wanna come in?"
I took one step back. "Nope."
"Why not?"
"I look like I got dressed in the dark."
"You look fine."
"I look… budget."
She laughed. "You're dramatic."
"And proud."
She walked toward the gate, then turned back.
"See you soon, Ayana."
"Yeah… go enjoy your palace."
She waved like royalty and disappeared inside.
I stood there for a moment.
Then sighed.
"Okay… fashion battle it is."
And for the first time…
I wasn't completely terrified.
Just mostly terrified.
But hey—
Progress.