Behind The Scenes Novels & Stories

Bruna I knew we took the backdoor, the moment we made our way inside. Everyone was sitting with their backs to the door. A big white screen was mounted at the front and a brown podium next to it. It was a big conference room with people packed in the front. "You should come to the front." I stepped right behind him when he spoke. I glanced around the room. There were a lot of eyes and I didn't want to be put in that kind of position. I wanted to be in a place where I could hear and see everything.

Even stranger, Maggie hadn’t even deleted the backup, as if she wanted us to see it on purpose. Suddenly, I remembered a glint of reflected light under the passenger seat after practice that day—something like a tiny lens. A chill crept up my spine. I realized then that this carefully designed trap had been laid long ago. But who was behind it? And why were they determined to push us into a corner like this?

Staff аrе buѕу оn thеіr phones, аnd ԛuіеt bееріng іѕ соmіng from thе several соmрutеr mоnіtоrѕ. Thеrе’ѕ a rаіѕеd room аt thе bасk, with a giant ѕсrееn bеhіnd a huge bоаrdrооm ѕtуlе tаblе, аnd tоо mаnу chairs to соunt.

Why was I curious to see what went on behind those doors? Abed scans his iris this time, I hold my breath for what we would see, my brows furrow to see people dressed in evening clothes just like us, all of us in carnival masks, sitting alone, with partner... or partners as they watched the large stage in front of them. “This is where we leave you.” Joanne whispered, excitement lacing her words. Before I could ask what she meant, they walk to a seat in front, and Abed leads to me a seat of love seats in front but far from them.

"Come on, sis, I go back to base soon. For me?" I can't resist C.J.'s puppy eyes, and I let security lead us backstage, my heart pounding harder with each step. What am I doing? I know exactly where this is going to lead. Backstage, it's a frenzy of people. The media is there, and the technical crew is running around, but the security guard walks straight to one of the black doors and opens it for us.

I picked up my comb and went to the comfort room. That guy! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Jessy chin up. You're stunning." I heard Ethan said. We're in the back stage. Jacob was sitting on the other side of the flatform. "Thank you." I saw a very familiar feelings in her eyes. Love. "Ten seconds. You're next Ms. Jessy." The organizer reminded us. Jessy tilted her head. I nodded to her and gave her a thumbs up. Jessy's been in this industry for years but she's always hesitant of doing the runaway. She's scared to fall.

Joseph's lips trembled as he tried to speak. "Please... Please calm down." "Calm down?" Betty's laugh was sharp and bitter, her makeup twisted in anger. "I turned down rich guys for you, and now, you're telling me you're broke?!" In a sudden rage, she lunged and grabbed Joseph by the throat. "Give me the money! I know you've got some hidden away!" The medical staff rushed to pry her off as Joseph gasped for air, his face turning from ashen to a deep shade of purple.

Satisfied with his interactions, he continued towards the back of the stage, where the staff and models were diligently preparing for the runway spectacle. The backstage area was a flurry of activity, with makeup artists delicately applying the finishing touches to the models' faces, and stylists meticulously dressing them in the exquisite designs meant for the runway. Mateo approached Lisa, one of the key members of the event staff, and inquired about the progress. "Lisa, how are things coming along?" Mateo asked, his voice filled with curiosity. Lisa, with a smile of confidence, replied, "Everything is set, Sir. The models are ready, and the designs are waiting to be showcased on the runwa

If the catwalk stage and the adjoining space had small noises of conversation, the backstage side is in chaos. Makeup artists are running with brushes in their hands, hairdressers sweeping pass with combs and curlers, photographers and assistants terrified of their stylists. I'm careful not to run over a short and thin woman sprinting by with some papers in hand. I prefer not to disturb her in her process. Inside it is boiling with tension. I was absolutely loving the energy though, it was bustling with creativity.

I say and weave at him before leaving the car. I watch the car leave and disappear before entering my apartment. Gosh I'm so tired.