My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

With a sound of something tearing up, Isabel cut an opening on the shirt, and with a slight and sharp tug, the whole thing came off like a rag.

She hurled it on Florence’s face with utter pride and arrogance.

“There’s only twenty minute left until the opening sequence. Take your shabby shirt and get lost now.”

As she hugged her spoilt shirt, Florence felt a chill running over her skin, as if she had been confined in an ice cave.

She had the most potential this time to seize the championship, and her dream ever since she was little was almost realized. It was just right in front of her eyes, and she just needed to take a step and her dreams would come true. She would be able to stand on the most magnificent stage and be celebrated as the most famous designer.

Yet…

Everything was ruined at the moment. She had forever lost her chance.

Florence didn’t remember how she had gotten out of the venue of the design competition. The night breeze was howling all around her, and all she could feel was a chill that attacked her bones.

She trod forward with her rigid body aimlessly, and she didn’t even dare to steal a glance behind her back.

In the venue of the competition.

The competition finally started, and every model made their appearance with each of them wearing designer clothes.

Among the audience, there were quite many who were Florence’s supporters, and some of them were even raising up a flashing and blinking display board which had Florence’s name on it.

In the competition this time, Florence had the highest degree of support among the candidates. Almost everyone were looking forward to what kind of outstanding attire she would create this time.

However, when it was finally Florence’s model’s turn to walk the runway, she was nowhere to be seen.

“What’s wrong? Why isn’t Florence’s model appearing now?”

“Is there an issue?”

The crowd burst into a bout of discussion, and a commotion slowly took over the scene.

On the judges’ seats, the three judges turned to look at Ernest at the same time.

One of them who were seated the nearest to him whispered, “Mr. Hawkins, it has been some time, but Florence is not making her appearance yet. Shall we send someone to look for her, or shall we just proceed with the competition?”

They were being polite although they held the opinion that participant who was not punctual should get her qualification revoked and the show should go on with the other contestants.

However, due to the ambiguous relationship between Ernest and Florence, nobody dared to push their luck and voiced their concern.

gaze was trained in the direction of the stage

seat, yet he was exuding

but someone told me he witnessed Ms. Fraser leaving the backstage half an hour ago. It looks like… she has forfeited her participation

face

up abruptly and marched in the direction to

of the judges were confused by his actions, “Mr. Hawkins, where are you going?”

how could a judge leave the venue so suddenly?

as Ernest’s huge frame disappeared in

knowing what to do next. Since Mr. Hawkins had left, they had one less judge. How could they continue with the competition?

from the hotel, and she

perched up against it. Her gaze lacked any emotion and substance, as though she had turned into a

stop, and two girls

they sneaked another glance at her. It seemed

closer and asked,

them

to

hastily shoved her phone which was playing a live streaming

Contest, and I have become Florence’s fan since the last round of competition. You look like her so much.

at the familiar venue of

feelings of indignation down back to her stomach, “You guys have mistaken me for her.

doubt in her eyes. It was apparent she found Florence’s words hard

the competition venue right now. It’s

“You’re right.”

because you guys really resemble

anything but there was a suffocating sense of bitterness in her

However, after what had happened tonight, all of her hard work and her previous efforts had

alighted the bus, and the interior of the bus assumed its usual

leaned against the window powerlessly. Soon, sleep came to

heard a middle-aged man spoke, “Miss, you have reached the final stop. It’s time to

The final stop?

opened her eyes albeit her confusion. She wasn’t planning to

her

continuous bout

dragged her luggage down the bus, and immediately she was

There wasn’t

her concern, “I’m sorry but I’ve overshot my stop. May I know where can I board a returning