Status: in progress
The Moment I Said It
Nowadays
I had to move on.
Thus, I left London – with a heavy, broken, and aching heart.
I never sawTom again.
Not until the seventh of June, ten years later.
***
It was a hot summer day in San Sebastián. I was a sweating mess even at half past seven in the morning.
A beautiful start to my birthday, I thought to myself.
This day was full of business – yes, my dear reader, I decided to celebrate the occasion of my birth at work – and I couldn’t be happier about it.
One of the world’s biggest fashion exhibitions was about to settle here, and I belonged to one of the teams that had to prepare the hall and look out for the show to start and finish smoothly.
But maybe I’m too forward; maybe I should start somewhere earlier, dear reader.
As you know from the last chapter already, I left my hometown. I had decided to move on, start a completely new life.
Spain had always been one of my favorite places, and planning and organization always were my number one when it came to events, thus it wasn’t surprising when I looked out for a job in 'high society' event management in Spain. I mean, I was young, I was free and – most aptly of all, given my little rebellion – I was wild.
In the beginning, it was quite hard to get around with little linguistics, but eventually I picked up Spanish well enough to navigate numerous social spheres. Also, the branch I started to work at was originally English, one that had already organized thousands of fashion shows.
I got a place as an office assistant first, setting time, place, and content.
I loved it.
Through the years, my boss took me with her, allowing me to stick my nose further into the management of several parties or runways or the like, and after five years of hard work, I got a promotion – I wasn’t only the event management’s office assistant anymore, but also became assistant for field service.
And now I was here, in San Sebastián, checking on the lighting and sound engineering. Sometimes I wished I had more time to get backstage, watching the newest fashion labels’ outfits and the models who were going to present them, but I knew where I was needed right now and they would count on me.
There was still time for it later on, right?
“Señorita, terminó la rapidez con el equipo de sonido? Los DJs quieren hacer una prueba, si la música adecuada para el espectáculo es y trabaja.”
“Ya casi hemos terminado! Necesitamos hacer este perfectamente!” ²
***
The lights darkened, and everything became silent.
Jennifer gave me one more smile, crossed her fingers and nodded.
That was my sign.
I had to do it. It was my moment – the show's success was on my shoulders. I was Atlas, holding up my entire world.
Have them start the music. Turn on the green light. Send the first model onto the catwalk. Wait for applause.
And even though my hands were sweaty and shaking and I felt weak in the knees, it worked.
The applause was not deafening but the noise carried a quiet reverence, likely due to the amazing presentation of Roberto Cavalli’s latest it-piece and the way it appeared in the light.
That was a good start.
The worst part was over.
***
It was a great success!
My inner self relaxed over the event, and I could finally enjoy the last minutes of this show before I had to get back to oversee the dismantling.
The models were walking up one last time, all together, presenting each outfit once more.
Back of where I was standing, I could see the room almost filled completely, lots of camera people taking their so wanted pictures, and I could hear the people, including some of the world’s famous actors and actresses, whooing over this dress or that coat.
The applause didn't fade at all with the passing of each design, and the final highlight tore it all out.
As I scanned the first rows, I recognized Ricky Martin, Penélope Cruz and Javier Bardem. There were also Keira Knightley, Meg Ryan and Meryl Streep; even Manolo Blahnik.
And then – in the dim backlight, some rows above – I saw him.
My heart was pounding heavily in my ribcage all of a sudden, all serenity gone. I felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of me.
He was here, so close, and I couldn’t hide.
And then – just as I thought it could not become worse – he lifted his head and looked straight at me.
Tearing my eyes from his steady gaze, I made a quick getaway and ran backstage.
__________________________________
¹ engl.: Miss, how long does it take the sound equipment yet to finish everything? The DJs want to make a trial run, to see whether there’s the right music and if it works one hundred percent.
² engl.: We’re almost done! We need to do this perfectly!
Thus, I left London – with a heavy, broken, and aching heart.
I never sawTom again.
Not until the seventh of June, ten years later.
***
It was a hot summer day in San Sebastián. I was a sweating mess even at half past seven in the morning.
A beautiful start to my birthday, I thought to myself.
This day was full of business – yes, my dear reader, I decided to celebrate the occasion of my birth at work – and I couldn’t be happier about it.
One of the world’s biggest fashion exhibitions was about to settle here, and I belonged to one of the teams that had to prepare the hall and look out for the show to start and finish smoothly.
But maybe I’m too forward; maybe I should start somewhere earlier, dear reader.
As you know from the last chapter already, I left my hometown. I had decided to move on, start a completely new life.
Spain had always been one of my favorite places, and planning and organization always were my number one when it came to events, thus it wasn’t surprising when I looked out for a job in 'high society' event management in Spain. I mean, I was young, I was free and – most aptly of all, given my little rebellion – I was wild.
In the beginning, it was quite hard to get around with little linguistics, but eventually I picked up Spanish well enough to navigate numerous social spheres. Also, the branch I started to work at was originally English, one that had already organized thousands of fashion shows.
I got a place as an office assistant first, setting time, place, and content.
I loved it.
Through the years, my boss took me with her, allowing me to stick my nose further into the management of several parties or runways or the like, and after five years of hard work, I got a promotion – I wasn’t only the event management’s office assistant anymore, but also became assistant for field service.
And now I was here, in San Sebastián, checking on the lighting and sound engineering. Sometimes I wished I had more time to get backstage, watching the newest fashion labels’ outfits and the models who were going to present them, but I knew where I was needed right now and they would count on me.
There was still time for it later on, right?
“Señorita, terminó la rapidez con el equipo de sonido? Los DJs quieren hacer una prueba, si la música adecuada para el espectáculo es y trabaja.”
“Ya casi hemos terminado! Necesitamos hacer este perfectamente!” ²
***
The lights darkened, and everything became silent.
Jennifer gave me one more smile, crossed her fingers and nodded.
That was my sign.
I had to do it. It was my moment – the show's success was on my shoulders. I was Atlas, holding up my entire world.
Have them start the music. Turn on the green light. Send the first model onto the catwalk. Wait for applause.
And even though my hands were sweaty and shaking and I felt weak in the knees, it worked.
The applause was not deafening but the noise carried a quiet reverence, likely due to the amazing presentation of Roberto Cavalli’s latest it-piece and the way it appeared in the light.
That was a good start.
The worst part was over.
***
It was a great success!
My inner self relaxed over the event, and I could finally enjoy the last minutes of this show before I had to get back to oversee the dismantling.
The models were walking up one last time, all together, presenting each outfit once more.
Back of where I was standing, I could see the room almost filled completely, lots of camera people taking their so wanted pictures, and I could hear the people, including some of the world’s famous actors and actresses, whooing over this dress or that coat.
The applause didn't fade at all with the passing of each design, and the final highlight tore it all out.
As I scanned the first rows, I recognized Ricky Martin, Penélope Cruz and Javier Bardem. There were also Keira Knightley, Meg Ryan and Meryl Streep; even Manolo Blahnik.
And then – in the dim backlight, some rows above – I saw him.
My heart was pounding heavily in my ribcage all of a sudden, all serenity gone. I felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of me.
He was here, so close, and I couldn’t hide.
And then – just as I thought it could not become worse – he lifted his head and looked straight at me.
Tearing my eyes from his steady gaze, I made a quick getaway and ran backstage.
__________________________________
¹ engl.: Miss, how long does it take the sound equipment yet to finish everything? The DJs want to make a trial run, to see whether there’s the right music and if it works one hundred percent.
² engl.: We’re almost done! We need to do this perfectly!