LOGINSCARLETT
I realized that once you've tasted even a bit of forbidden things, you wanted to get some more of it. I was sitting through brunch with my mother and pretending I wasn't thinking about Simon's voice telling me to wear that dress again. “And Simon might take us to Monaco next month,” Cynthia said excitedly across the breakfast table. “Wouldn't that be amazing?” I forced herself back into the conversation. “What?” My mother sighed dramatically. “You never listen lately.” Because your husband keeps looking at me like he wants to ruin my life. I stabbed at my fruit with unnecessary force. “Sorry, I'm tired.” “You're always tired.” I glanced toward the empty seat at the end of the table. Simon wasn't there this morning. For some reason, disappointment curled unexpectedly in my stomach. It was pathetic really and I hated myself for it. “Simon already left for work,” Cynthia added absent mindedly, as though reading my thoughts. “Big meeting.” “Oh.” My mother smirked suddenly. “You seem much more comfortable around him lately.” I nearly choked on her coffee. “What?” “I’m glad,” Cynthia continued casually. “I was worried you’d never adjust.” I looked down quickly, praying my face wasn't betraying me again because the problem was that Simon had invaded every corner of my thoughts. And judging by the way he looked at me, I invaded him too. *** That evening, I decided I needed air. So after dinner, while my mum attended some charity event in the city, I slipped outside into the estate gardens alone. The night air was cool against my skin as I wandered between dimly lit pathways and towering hedges. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe properly…until I heard footsteps behind me. It was Simon. Dark dress shirt rolled at the sleeves, tie gone, one hand tucked casually into his pocket as he walked toward me through the moonlight. He looked unfairly good at night. “You're out late,” he said calmly. I crossed her arms instinctively. “You startled me.” “Yet you already knew it was me.” My stomach tightened because he was right. “Where's my mother?” I asked. “At her event.” Of course he knew exactly what I meant, they were completely alone. I looked away first. “You work too much.” “And you avoid me too much.” I sighed softly. “You notice everything don't you?” “I do.” Simon leaned slightly against the stone edge of the fountain while studying her face. “You've been restless lately.” I laughed nervously. “Now you’re psychoanalyzing me again.” “I don’t need to analyze you.” His eyes darkened slightly. “You're very expressive.” I cupped my cheeks lightly as I could feel the heat against them. Simon's gaze lingered there. “You know,” I said lightly, “most stepfathers probably don't stare at their stepdaughters this much.” The second the words left my mouth, everywhere became still. “Careful.” He said. But instead of stopping, something reckless inside me pushed further, maybe because I was tired of pretending. “Why?” I whispered. “Because you keep saying things designed to provoke me,” Simon said stepping closer. “Maybe you like being provoked.” His eyes dragged over my face. “There it is, that little attitude.” I swallowed hard, the air suddenly felt too thick to breathe. Simon reached out, taking a strand of hair between his fingers before tucking it slowly behind the ear. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured. My breath got caught sharply. Every rational thought in my head told me to step away but I didn't. Instead she whispered, “Then tell me.” Simon's jaw tightened instantly. “You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to.” I stared up at him, moonlight reflected in his eyes and suddenly the word slipped out before I could stop it. “Daddy.” Simon froze and my body went cold from realization. Oh God! Why did I say that? I opened her mouth quickly. “I didn't mean—” Simon grabbed my jaw suddenly and I gasped softly. His breathing had changed and the look in his eyes became something dark enough to ruin me completely. “Say it again.” My lips parted helplessly. “Simon—” “That's not what you called me.” Everything about this moment was wrong. Yet I could feel myself unraveling beneath his gaze. Simon's thumb brushed slowly across my lower lip. “You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how dangerous that word is coming from you.” I trembled beneath his hand, my thoughts were a mess now, all tangled together and I could separate one from the other anymore. Simon noticed my shaky breath, flushed skin, the way my thighs pressed together instinctively and a dark look crossed his face. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. My pulse spiked, then headlights suddenly flashed across the driveway nearby. Both of them jerked apart instantly. My mother was back. Reality crashed back brutally. Simon stepped away first, dragging a hand down his face roughly like he was curious with himself. My chest rose unevenly as the car pulled closer, another few seconds and Cynthia would see them standing alone together in the gardens at midnight looking guilty as hell. Simon's expression transformed instantly back into cold composure. “Go inside,” he said quietly. The command should've annoyed me, instead it made heat curl low in my stomach. I turned quickly toward the mansion and reached the entrance but just before stepping inside, Simon's voice stopped me one last time. “Scarlett.” I looked back, his eyes locked into mine beneath the moonlight. Then his voice dropped low enough to make my entire body shiver. “Don't call me that unless you want consequences.”SCARLETT The graduate showcase was on March 21st. The program's annual event, the culmination of the year's work, held in a venue large enough to matter and intimate enough to be real. Industry guests, faculty, family, a small amount of press. I had been preparing for it since January in the specific way you prepared for something that was going to happen regardless of how prepared you were, doing the work and trusting it and trying not to make the preparation into performance. The week before, I finished the final alterations on the sixth piece. The ordinary piece. The Thursday piece. The one that looked like a life rather than a conclusion. I put it on the sixth form and stood back and looked at the full collection for the first time as a complete thing. All six pieces in sequence. The light in the studio catching them differently from different angles. The first piece, structured and formal, the before. The transitional piece in the center, the threshold itself, neither one
SIMONThe house was in a quiet street twenty minutes from the city center, the kind of street that had been residential for long enough that it had stopped being self-conscious about it, the Victorian terraces lining both sides with the comfortable solidity of buildings that had been doing their job for a hundred and fifty years and expected to continue.I had looked at it alone on the Wednesday, between a two o'clock call and a four o'clock meeting, forty-five minutes that I had used to walk through the rooms with the estate agent and form a preliminary view without the pressure of someone else's response shaping mine before I had finished forming it. That was the way I approached most significant decisions, get the unmediated impression first, let it settle, then introduce the other variables.The unmediated impression had been immediate and complete.This was the house.I had known it in the entrance hall, standing on the original tiled floor with the January light coming through t
SCARLETTJanuary was for finishing.Not the January of new year energy and resolutions and the performed fresh start that the calendar insisted on. The quiet functional January of someone who had a clear task and the time to do it and wanted nothing from the month except the hours it contained. The flat fabric choices had been made in December, ordered and confirmed and tracked with the methodical attention of someone who understood that the wrong fabric arriving late was the kind of problem that couldn't be solved by working harder, only by having anticipated it correctly in the first place. By the first week of January the materials were in the studio and the toiles were ready to be replaced and the work of turning the concept into its final physical form had begun.I worked in the studio every day.Sometimes from eight in the morning until eight or nine in the evening, the building quieting around me as the afternoon became evening and most of the cohort went home, leaving only the
SCARLETTWe went to dinner after, the four of us, Simon and David and Petra and me, somewhere nearby that Simon had found and booked without announcing it beforehand in the way he arranged things that mattered without making the arrangement into a presentation. A small Italian place two streets from the warehouse, the kind of restaurant that had been there long enough to stop trying to be anything other than what it was, good food and reasonable wine and the kind of warm unhurried lighting that made everyone look like the version of themselves they actually were rather than the version they were performing.We arrived still carrying the particular energy of the warehouse, the specific heightened quality of an evening that had gone well and that everyone present knew had gone well and that nobody was quite ready to put down yet. The maître d' showed us to a corner table, which Simon had clearly requested, the kind of table that allowed a conversation to be its own thing rather than som
SCARLETTDr. Anand told us about the industry event on a Monday in December in the way she told us most significant things, without preamble or ceremony, slotted into the seminar agenda between a discussion of portfolio documentation and a reminder about the end of term submission requirements, as though what she was saying was simply information rather than something that would rearrange the next three weeks of two people's lives."The program has been invited to send two students to the Winter Industry Preview," she said, looking at her notes with the composure of someone who had attended enough of these events to understand their significance without needing to perform excitement about them. "It's an informal presentation evening. Industry contacts, buyers, a small number of press. An opportunity to show work in progress to people who matter to the direction of a career."She looked up from her notes.The room had the specific quality of stillness that it produced when something im
SCARLETT November moved through the campus like weather. The studios got busier, the energy shifting from the exploratory quality of September and October into something more focused and pressured. Deadlines becoming real. Concepts that had lived comfortably in sketchbooks now having to justify themselves in three dimensions. Petra's textile piece had evolved into something genuinely extraordinary, a series of layered panels that changed character completely depending on how light moved through them, which she had achieved through a construction method she had developed herself over six weeks of trial and iteration and the specific stubbornness of someone who refused to accept that what she could see in her head wasn't achievable with her hands. "It's done," she said on a Tuesday, standing back from the finished panels with the expression of someone who had been in a long argument and had finally won it. I stood beside her and looked at it. "Petra," I said. "I know," she said.







