It was Jessica's big day, for years she'd been trying her best working design jobs and she was finally able to impress her bosses enough that they gave her a chance at producing her own fashion show, and there was a top-tier French designer coming to see it to boot! You couldn't have been happier for her, as her boyfriend.
You'd seen her working the hardest she'd ever worked in preparation for the show, designing a bunch of new outfits that, even to a fashion layman like you, were remarkable, and you'd been helping behind the scenes, agreeing to work the lights and AV equipment.
As her boyfriend, you could always tell when she was upset, but you'd have to have been deaf and blind to not notice it when she walked out from backstage, looking as if her heart was beating out of her chest.
"Jess, what's wrong?" you asked, rushing over to her.
"Oh, Felix... it's one of my models." Jess whined.
Jessica had booked her models through the same agency that her company used, and as a result of them being talented, they were usually double booked and were flying around the country several times within a week. And this week, there happened to be a major snowstorm on one side of the country.
"And now I'm one model short and I was having her do a few changes, so that's like three outfits that won't go out on the runway. This is a disaster!" Jessica was on the verge of tears.
"Woah, now. Don't you have anyone else who can fill in?"
"The company told me to do varied sizes, so I picked one model for each size. None of the other models are close enough to even squeeze into them."
What about the agency?" you asked.
As it turned out, the agency was closed for the weekend, and the show was in just a few hours, and even if they had more time, it'd be very unlikely to find a specifically sized model on short notice anyway.
"I'm ruined. I'm never going to make it because my show is incomplete."
"Why don't you try to find a friend or something? Someone who fits the size but isn't a professional model. I mean, it can't be all that hard to drill them on how to walk the runway for a few hours, right?" you reassured.
Jessica started to dry her tears and sniffled a bit before smiling.
"You're right, I've got some calls to make." Jessica took out her phone and returned backstage.
As you continued testing the lights and cameras, (you were recording the show for posterity's sake) Jessica came back out and shyly approached you. You knew what this meant. She needed something.
And just what is it that she needs?
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