Novel Fabrics Novels & Stories

Hector arranged for me to apologize on a livestream from a TV station. After I signed the nondisclosure agreement, I faced more than a dozen cameras and read from the script like a machine. "Hello, everyone. My name is Conrad Brown. Regarding the recent controversy online, I'm here to formally apologize to Mr. Hector Gomez and Ms. Quinn Summers... "I fabricated the chat records for attention. Quinn and I were only classmates." The number of viewers soared, and the comments were full of abuse. Netizens flooded the screen, telling me to get out of Oceanton. Every comment felt like an invisible bullet. By the time I came back to myself, my heart was already full of holes.

New fashion design talents from all over the world had flocked to Milan, Italy. In just a few days, the street hotels in Milan were fully booked. To perfect their designs, many emerging designers went to Milan’s wholesale market in search of inspiration, hoping to make small adjustments to their work and improve them. I too arrived at the massive wholesale market, hoping to find some inspiration that the Moon Goddess might have missed. With the large sum of money Jeseni had given me, I bit the bullet and bought several rolls of top-quality fabric—Domei, made from the finest cashmere and seahorse hair, mixed with alpaca wool, and complemented with gold and diamond dust.

Fabric lay everywhere. Bolts of it were stacked neatly against one wall, towering in shades of deep emerald, slate gray, rich burgundy, and muted gold. Others spilled freely across tables and chairs, draped and folded and pinned mid-creation. The floor bore the evidence of work in progress—scraps and threads, chalk markings half-erased by passing feet. Textures called out to me as I moved deeper inside. Rough weaves and silksmooth finishes. Heavy wool meant for cold nights and lighter fabrics that caught the air when you walked.

“I’ve already bought the fabrics. The seamstresses in the main village have started making several sets. It’ll take a while before they’re ready, but that’s alright… you’re still in recovery, anyway.” I turned to look at him. “That’s fine… We’ll just wait, then,” I replied with a small smile. I turned back to the cases laid out in front of me and opened them one by one. Inside were things I’d never dreamed I would one day call my own, delicate items made exclusively for women. They were beautiful. I had never owned anything like this before. In fact, I had never even touched anything this fine. Not even back at the mansion, where the female servants wore crisp uniforms and the noblewomen fla