Color Me Pretty

waves of skirt at my hips. The royal blue drapes me and flares out, leaving room for me to grow or to stay the same, it doesn't matter. I made this dress fit the person, so the person doesn't have to fit the dress. The skirt falls down and brushes against the tops of my feet, teasing and tickling, while the bodice hugs me tight, cinched in down the back, cupping me, forming against me like a second skin.
    I feel pretty in it. Beautiful. It's the first time in a long time.
    My smile becomes more real.
    And then there she is, black hair draping down her back, snake tattoo on her arm. Lianna Cheung comes rushing out of the back like she's been expecting someone. Whoever it was, it was certainly not me.
    “Miss Cheung,” I begin, and then I have to ask because I have no guarantee that she's going to remember me or not. “Do you remember me? My name's Claire Simone, and I … I had a casting call here just over a month ago.” I don't mention when I returned, drenched, soaked to the bone with makeup running down my face. Lianna looks at me and her face is one, big blank. Her brown eyes take me in from head to toe and then sweep right back over again. I let her look, and I wait, trying to gauge her reaction, trying to see what she thinks of my dress, if anything.
    She looks fantastic, draped in a black gown with silver cranes, just like the ones I saw before. They soar around her like she's the sky itself, like she's vast enough to encompass everything but small enough to understand. It's a good design. A damn good one. I would've been honored to walk her clothes down a runway.
    “Miss Simone,” she says finally, gesturing at the seating area with the back of her hand. “Please, take a seat.” When her assistant peeks her head out, Lianna instructs her to make us some coffee. “I have to admit, I'm not really all that surprised to see you.” She smiles when she says this, so I know she doesn't mean anything harsh by it. “I expected you'd come back, not so soon but eventually.”
    “What do you mean?” I ask, settling into a zebra patterned chair and crossing my legs at the knee. I feel more comfortable now because I'm not trying for anything, not striving for tomorrow. Right now, I'm just existing.
    Lianna adjusts herself and the gold bangles on her arms tinkle like wind chimes. She clasps her hands around her knee and tilts her head to the side.
    “Who designed your dress?” she asks, and I have to actually look down and stare at the sweetheart neckline, the delicate buttons in robin egg blue, the uneven stitching. It's still surreal to me.
    “I did.” Lianna laughs and her voice echoes off the hardwood floors and bounces around the racks of colorful clothing.
    “Of course you did,” she tells me as her assistant whispers in on quiet feet and deposits our coffee in front of us. She disappears just as fast. I stare down at the dark brew and let the rich, earthy scent penetrate my nostrils. I don't hesitate this time, just pick it up and take a sip. “I told you that you reminded me of myself. If you had done any less, I would've been shocked.” Lianna picks up her mug and cradles it in small, delicate looking hands. “Why did you come here today, Miss Simone?” she asks. She's not being judgmental or rude or anything, she merely wants to know. I take several more sips of my coffee, surprised that I've been able to resist for this long and set the cup down.
    “I wanted to thank you,” I tell her, meeting her eyes with mine and wondering why they're twinkling like that. “For believing in me, for giving me a second chance, for remembering my name.” We both smile. “And I wanted to apologize for letting you down.” Lianna's already holding up a hand in protest.
    “Don't apologize to me, Claire Simone.” She points at me with an emerald green fingernail. “The only person you owe an apology to is yourself.” She looks at me, and I think she can tell that I'm already on my way to doing that. I have a few more stops, but I'll get there. “Are you still interested in being a model?” I don't think this question is leading to anything, but I answer as best I can.
    “I don't know,” I tell her, holding up my hand and watching the engagement ring sparkle in the sunshine. Lianna watches me but says nothing. She met Emmett before, and although it was a brief and rather unpleasant meeting, I get the feeling that she knows this is from him. Only a fool would be blind to love we have between