David was fully behind me. “Do it for you,” he said. And I did.
The following weeks were a whirlwind of preparation, talent showcases, and bonding with other contestants. Some moments were challenging—competitiveness brought out the best and worst in people—but I found allies too. Katie, a talented singer, and Emma, who often sought my help with sewing, became my closest friends in the contest.
My performance was a fashion showcase—my own designs, created for real women and inspired by real stories. The night before the final event, Lily brought some paperwork. I noticed she seemed a little nervous, and later, I discovered why.
On the day of the show, chaos broke out backstage. Katie’s dress had been destroyed. People whispered and pointed fingers, but no one could prove anything. I didn’t hesitate. I handed her one of my best designs and told her, “You’ve worked so hard. You deserve to shine.”
I wore a simple backup dress of my own and walked the stage with pride. During my segment, I spoke from the heart:
“Fashion should be about people, not perfection. These pieces are being donated to families in need. Because beauty lies in kindness, purpose, and the courage to uplift others.”
The crowd responded with a standing ovation. In the audience, I saw Gertrude. Her expression was unreadable—but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t looking for her approval anymore.
Katie won the crown, and I was honored with the People’s Choice award. It was more than enough. David greeted me with pink peonies and a proud smile. “You were incredible,” he said.
As for the rest—well, some truths surfaced later, including how a few behind-the-scenes moves may have been less than supportive. But I chose to let it go. I had already won something far more important than a title.
That night, surrounded by friends and celebration, I realized this journey wasn’t about changing someone else’s mind. It was about believing in myself again—and standing tall, not in spite of others’ doubts, but because I had learned to trust my own voice.