Like what?She mouthed.
“In particular, a special guest spot at Sydney Fashion Week on Saturday.”
Ava saw both Ruben and Chris’ faces at that statement. They most certainly didn’t match her confused expression. They were shocked, yes, but also overjoyed. She turned and beckoned Chris to lean forward, then whispered in his ear.
He sat back and addressed Gary, “She wants to know what fighting and fashion have to do with each other? Basically, she’s a fighter. She doesn’t see why you’d want a fighter at fashion week.”
Gary nodded. “Ava, with respect, you’re not a fighter anymore. But you’re not broken and out of order either. Whether you believe it or not, as horrific as that fight was, you’re a symbol.
We’ve supplied runway models to Fashion Week for years, and every year we get requests for special guest models. It’s usually a token thing, not to be taken seriously. This year, we received more requests for you than we ever have for anyone in our history. What you have been through has obviously captured people. You’ve inspired them. Our hope is that you’ll agree to appear at the end as a special guest model to close the show.”
Ava gestured to herself and then to him, but it was Chris that spoke. “What do you want her to do?”
“Basically, it’s just a smile and wave to the crowd while wearing a once-off special outfit. They usually walk the runway, but because of your injury, we wouldn’t ask you to do that this year.”
Ava looked to Ruben who nodded and thanked Gary for his understanding. He seemed to respect the fact Gary considered her a person, not a gimmick to be put on show. And so did Ava.
“And there’s a couple of scripts for you to read.”
Ava looked at him and upturned her hand as a question.What scripts?
“Nothing major. A few TV and movie cameos that we consider credible. As you can imagine, not all offers are from reliable sources. Some have issues attached to their brands. We’ve filtered them, on your behalf, based on our experience and what we believe would be a good fit for you. But you’re more than welcome to have a look at the ones we have rejected. Some of them are for a good amount of money.”
Like what?
“Well for example, we were contacted by Dominic Damascus of Hord Motors. He was very keen to get you over there for a meeting.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Ruben asked.
“We supplied some girls to him last year for an Owen Gasnier commercial, and the whole thing went pear shaped. The girls were dismissed after Hord caved to pressure from a feminist group saying their roles were demeaning to women. Gasnier quit the shoot on the last day. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but Damascus was cursing his name for weeks and vowed to never work with him again. Ultimately, I’ve got no real problem with either, but we’d rather not associate with the drama.”
Ava leant back, thinking about it. She didn’t know either, but her instinct was to trust Gasnier. If he quit, there must’ve been something sinister going on. It seemed to her that Gary was right in his opinion that she should keep away from the drama. She would have a look at the scripts. She would be stupid not to. Her dream of fighting was shattered, and she needed a new income. She had to dosomethingfor the rest of her life.
Backstage at Sydney Fashion Week was absolutely manic. Half-naked models rushed to and from curtains, in what seemed like seconds, between costume changes. Producers rushed about screaming and yelling, either at people rushing past them or on their phones.
The boys helped her into the make-up chair and left her there, with her permission, to go explore. Ava would’ve been fine on her own though she was grateful that she wasn’t. She had invited Jasmine along.
They’d exchanged numbers after their reunion and had been exchanging texts every day. Not too frequently, but it was consistently. And Jasmine had made it a habit to come around several times a week to help her do little things. Getting her water. Helping her up the stairs. Bringing plates to and from the kitchen.
Ava wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but she loved having her back in her life. Their connection hadn’t gone anywhere. They both still lit up when they were together. But Jasmine’s glow always dimmed when she headed home, and Ava wanted to have a serious conversation with her but how when only one of them could actually converse?
Ava still had to get her head around the fact Jasmine was married. She had so many questions, but did she have a right to ask them? Maybe, and one of the first would be why Jasmine wanted to be around her all of a sudden.
Ava had just closed her eyes so the make-up artist, Bianca, could apply a glitter treatment to her face when she heard her ask a question she’d never been asked.
“Can I get your autograph? More than welcome to say no.”
Ava was surprised for a minute but smiled and nodded.
“Thank you! And you can open your eyes now,” Bianca replied, pulling out her business card and a pen. “I think it’s so great, you being here. It really brings this show up a level, based on what you’ve gone through. It’s not just about fashion or clothes but strength. Guts. After everything, you could’ve just stayed at home and felt sorry for yourself. Most would. But you’re here in front of the world. One foot in front of the other. So many people in the world need to get inspired nowadays... but anyway, whenever you get time, please.”
Ava took the card and pen and signed her first autograph with ‘Dear Bianca, all my love, Ava Beckinsale xx’ and placed the card on a shelf as Bianca finished up her work.
“Five minutes till close people!” came a voice from behind Ava. She shivered a touch from nerves and looked at herself in the mirror. Never had she felt more beautiful but not ‘her’. She spotted Jasmine, in the mirror, checking a message she had just received. Whatever it was, or whoever it was from, obviously wasn’t welcome.
Ava tapped on the bench to get her attention.You OK?
“Yeah.” She nodded with the quickest, fakest smile Ava had seen in some time just before putting her phone away. Pushing aside whatever it was. “How you feeling? You ready?”