Who could possibly do this toand why? Suddenly, I felt warm, steady hands on my shaking shoulders. "Evelyn, I promised you I'd get to the bottom of this. No one's ruining your debut. Just trust me, alright?" I looked up at Ethan, his eyes full of calm and assurance. I breathed in deeply, swallowed my tears, and nodded. "Alright, we won't let whoever's behind this win!" I got to my feet, my legs wobbly as I tried to walk. "Lianne, can you double-check backstage? I'll ask the rest of the staff if they've noticed anyone strange-" I didn't even finish speaking before a staff member ran over, out of breath. "Ms. Wiley, Mr. Grayson, we've got a problem! Someone's protesting in the backstage plaza, claiming we've violated her intellectual property and wants to stop our show!" "What?" Ethan and I blurted out, staring at each other in disbelief.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtLianne's mouth dropped open. "Intellectual property? Who's claiming this? How could we have possibly done that?" The staff member shook his head. "I don't know the full story. She's been going off, saying she'll explain everything when the police get here. She won't leave and has put up banners and signs, blocking the backstage!" Ethan's expression stiffened. "Let's go check it out." He took my hand, and we stepped outside.
I trailed behind Ethan, my head a mess of thoughts. First, the missing gown, now this intellectual property issue... Why did everything fall apart at the worst possible moment? It felt like someone had carefully staged all this to bringdown! We arrived at the backstage plaza and spotted a middle-aged woman with heavy makeup standing on a platform. She was holding up a banner with accusations, her tone full of indignation.
"Evelyn Wiley is a thief! How dare she steal my designs and showcase them at a fashion show? This is an insult to both fashion and art! Hey Lendora Fashion Week organizers, are you all blind? How can you allow someone like her to take the stage?" I stared at the woman, feeling like I had seen her before but couldn't figure out where.
Lianne gasped beside me. "Isn't that Whitney Fenton? Why is she here?" "Whitney Fenton? The famous designer from the '80s? You know her?" I looked at Lianne, surprised.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmLianne seemed equally surprised. "I don't know her personally. I've just read her interviews in magazines. She was a big nback then, brought a lot of supermodels into the spotlight, and even won the Best Designer Award at Lendora Fashion Week.
"But then she disappeared. It's been over 20 years, so I thought she had retired. I never thought I'd see her here!"
I frowned, sensing something wasn't right. "An outdated designer accusing us of infringement-doesn't that seem NOV weird? If we did do so, she could've taken us to court. What's the point of causing a fuss out here?"
"Exactly, it doesn't make sense," Ethan said, his gaze fixed on Whitney. I can sard "Besides, I can guarantee all our designs are your own. We didn't copy anyone. She must be after something!" We were speaking when suddenly the crowd buzzed. Several police cars pulled up fast outside the plaza.
The lead officer approached the
platform and looked up at Whitney. "Ms. Fenton, I'm Officer Watson from Lendora Police Department We'll .V.C. look into your infringement claims. But for now, please step down and leave the area. Public disruptions aren't allowed here."