Ava took a deep breath.I guess.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on controlling her breathing. That was made more difficult by Jasmine pressing her fingers into her neck and shoulders. The massage was presumably meant to relax her, yet was doing the opposite. She opened her eyes and found the pen and a showtime card. Flipping the card around, she wrote ‘Can we talk?’ on the back, then stood and handed it to Jasmine.
“Sure, what about?”
She wrote down the first thing she could think of: ‘Married?’
Jasmine gave what could almost be a guilty smile. “Yeah, surprised, huh? Our parents set us up, and it just kinda... blossomed from there I guess.”
Ava looked at Jasmine all the while she was rattling off that line. There was more to that story and more Ava wanted to ask about the deep sadness behind Jasmine’s eyes. But now wasn’t the time. ‘As long as you’re happy.’
Jasmine read the note and looked like she held in a breath. She opened her mouth but was stopped from any sort of response when Ava was tapped on the shoulder by a producer with an earpiece.
“Thirty seconds, Ava. Just this way, my love. You look fantastic by the way.”
Ava realized the rest of their talk would have to wait as she was gently led, limping, towards the inside of the opening in the curtain, her splint leaving a dullchunk, chunksound as she moved. Jasmine followed closely behind but was stopped by a security guard and told she could go no further.
“I’m going to see her walk out there.”
“Sorry, Miss. No one but models past this point.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me—”
Ava turned, wondering what she could do to ease this situation, as Ruben and Chris rushed up, their hands full with what looked like shopping bags and shoe boxes. Chris came a lot closer than Ruben, who was happy to stand way back. Just that small gesture told Ava that whatever they were fighting about hadn’t been resolved.
“We’re here! We’re here!” they called breathlessly, several shoe boxes tumbling from their grasps.
“Damn! I gotta put my name on those...” Ruben said, indicating the shoe boxes but looking at Ava, “or yours, as they are for you. All set?”
The security guard explained the situation, and Chris leapt into action. “Not to worry, honey, we’ve got front row seats. All three of us. Let’s go.”
Jasmine smiled a little sadly but waved at Ava, walking away with the boys after making a move to kiss Ava good luck but stopping. Suddenly Ava was aware of the sounds on the other side of the curtain as models began flowing through it to stand alongside her. Many of them greeted her, thanked her for coming and gave her gentle hugs. The more that kept coming, the closer her moment was. She couldn’t remember ever being so nervous for any fight.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please thank the models of Sydney Fashion Week!” came the overhead audio.
The curtain opened to generous applause, and the models walked back out in two lines, their movements mirrored from one to the next. Before the last model left and the curtain blocked her view, Ava heard something she couldn’t believe but moved her nonetheless. A rhythmic and continuous clap along with her name was echoing around the building. Her name. Not spoken by the MC, but chanted by the crowd. “A-VA! A-VA! A-VA!”
This wasn’t a dream or a fluke. She was really here and these people knew. She had been terrified she didn’t belong here because she wasn’t a model. The crowd didn’t seem to care. She wasn’t a fighter anymore either. But whatever she was, for some reason, they wanted to see her.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen...” A big swell from the crowd could be heard. “Would you please welcome Australia’s bravest sweetheart, the warrior woman, AVA BECKINSALE!”
The curtain parted and Ava could see the crowd and the models, all of whom were clapping for her. She smiled and gave a little wave, gingerly taking a step forward. She looked around at the people on both sides of the horseshoe shaped area around the runway, finding Jasmine sitting between the boys. They were all whooping louder than anyone.
She took another small step forward, trying to get a good look at all the people in the crowd, when something came over her. Maybe it was just her or maybe it was several of the models gesturing to the runway. Encouraging her to keep walking.
She was only supposed to stand and wave. That was it. Why though? Was that an insurance rule because of her leg? Could she get into trouble? Fined? Or was she simply holding herself back because she lacked confidence in her leg?
Ava held her breath and kept going. The crowd saw her limping her way down the runway and cheered harder. Just Ava. By herself. She wasn’t doing it for the applause. She was taking an opportunity to feel alive. The crowd seemed to sense that and let her know it was fantastic.
Just as she reached halfway, and began waving again, her splinted leg slipped from under her and she screamed as she came crashing down, sprawling across the lighted Perspex under her. She could feel as well as hear the collective groan from the crowd. She felt stupid. Her outfit, hell, just being here. What was she doing?
She must be crazy. She cringed, tears leaking out of her eyes, and reached down to her splint right before she heard the commotion as feet rushed from all around her. There were multiple people trying to get to her, to pick her up, but she halted them with a raised hand.
She admonished herself silently too. Not for falling, but for reacting the way she did internally. Feeling sorry for herself would get her nowhere.
She sucked in her lip and pressed her palms hard into the runway, warm from the lights under the glass, heaving herself up. She brought the knee of her good leg up to her chest and wobbled her way upright. She might have been surrounded by cameras, of both the flash and recording kind. She might have to live with seeing footage of her fall on social media for years. But by God, splint or not, she would finish that fucking walk.
She took a step, then another. As she moved, the clapping of the crowd increased exponentially. She wiped stray tears, more of embarrassment than pain, then used the same hand to wave and acknowledge the kindness and support. By the time she got to the end of the runway, she even managed a smile and a casual hair flip.