The soft morning light filtered through the windows of Ellen’s design studio, illuminating the sleek, modern space that had come to symbolize everything she’d worked for. The air was still thick with excitement and exhaustion, but it had a different kind of energy now—one that vibrated with possibility.

Ellen stood in front of the massive mirror that took up one entire wall, inspecting the fabric swatches and sketches that still covered the table. She ran her fingers over the velvet, the linen, the organic silks that she had fought so hard to source. The buzz from the night before—the applause, the flashing cameras, the excitement of being surrounded by her peers and admired by so many—was still fresh in her mind. But the silence in the studio now felt like a space for reflection. She was alone, but not really.

Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her out of her thoughts. She picked it up and smiled as she saw Maya’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey, girl! How’s it feel to be the hottest thing in fashion right now?” Maya’s voice was jubilant, and Ellen could hear the celebration in the background—probably from her place, filled with friends still riding the high of last night.

Ellen laughed softly. “It’s surreal. I feel like I’m still processing everything. The media, the attention, it’s all a lot. But it’s also… amazing.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I keep waiting for it to feel like a dream.”

“You did it, Ellen! I knew you would. You were made for this. The world is obsessed with you now. And your collection? It’s like nothing anyone’s ever seen before. People are talking about it everywhere.”

Ellen smiled, a quiet sense of pride washing over her, but her thoughts drifted back to the show, to the faces in the crowd. There had been a moment—right before the finale—when she had glanced over at the front row and seen him. Rick. He was there, standing among the important guests, his eyes locked onto her for a fleeting second. And then he was gone. Like a ghost.

The smile on her face faded slightly, though she quickly masked it. She’d come so far, done everything for herself—she didn’t have room for him anymore.

“I still can’t believe it’s all happening so fast. I mean, I went from working in a tiny studio in my apartment to being at fashion week.” Ellen’s voice softened, more to herself now. “But you’re right. I did it. I built this on my own.”

“Hell, yeah, you did!” Maya laughed. “But listen, I’ve been thinking about something. Are you ready for what’s coming next?”

Ellen paused, unsure. “What do you mean?”

“The next step, girl. You’re going to have brands reaching out, investors, probably some shady characters too. You need to be smart about how you play this. You’ve got so much power now—don’t let anyone take that from you.”

Ellen took a deep breath, processing Maya’s words. She did have power now. The kind of power she’d once thought was only for the rich and famous, the people who played in the big leagues. But she was one of them now. And she wasn’t going to let it slip through her fingers.

“Yeah,” Ellen said quietly. “I’m ready. But this isn’t just about me. It’s about everything I’ve worked for. Every sacrifice, every late night, all of it.”

“I know. That’s why you need to be careful. Don’t forget what this is really about. Don’t let the fame or the money or whatever distract you from the message you’re putting out there. The ‘Threads of Change’ collection isn’t just clothes—it’s a revolution. You own that.”

Ellen nodded, her fingers gripping the fabric in her hands. “It’s not just about the clothes, Maya. It’s about standing for something. I want my brand to mean something. To have purpose.”

A knock on the door broke her reverie. She turned to see Daniel standing in the doorway, holding a handful of press clippings. He flashed her a smile, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Good morning, Ellen,” he said, stepping in and handing her the stack. “I thought you might want to see this. The press is going wild.”

Ellen took the papers from him, flipping through the clippings. She didn’t need to read the headlines to know what they were saying—her name, her collection, her vision were everywhere. Each article was filled with praise, compliments on her bold ideas and stunning craftsmanship. She saw a piece in Vogue, another in Elle, and a glowing review in The New York Times.

“Wow…” Ellen whispered, feeling a strange mix of pride and disbelief. “I really did it.”

“Damn right you did,” Daniel grinned, standing beside her now. “You’ve got the world’s attention. And trust me, this is just the beginning. You’re going to be a household name before you know it.”

Ellen leaned back against the desk, the weight of everything settling into her bones. Her thoughts drifted to the show—how it had felt so surreal to stand there, watching the models strut down the runway in her designs, knowing that this was the moment everything changed.

But something tugged at her—an unfamiliar feeling. A curiosity. What had Rick thought? Had he seen her? Did he regret leaving?

No. She shook her head. That part of her life was over. She had a future now, one that didn’t need him in it. She was going to build something that was hers, and only hers.

“You okay?” Daniel’s voice cut through her thoughts, his brow furrowed in concern.

Ellen looked up at him and smiled, her expression firm. “Yeah. I’m more than okay. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

The phone buzzed again, and this time, it was a message from Maya: “Babe, don’t forget—this is YOUR moment. Don’t let anyone steal your shine.”

Ellen smiled to herself, pocketing her phone.

“Let’s get to work,” she said to Daniel. “There’s so much to do, and I’m not wasting a second.”

As they moved into the next phase of planning for her upcoming launches and collaborations, Ellen felt the weight of her success—but also the clarity of her purpose. She wasn’t just a designer anymore. She was a force. And no matter who tried to knock her down, she was going to keep rising.