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đ Chapter Two: Glass Walls
Iris sat on the window ledge of her dorm room, legs tucked under her, the lights of Columbus flickering beyond the glass like tiny galaxies. The city buzzed with possibility, but her thoughts were still back in that studioâback on that runwayâunder Ethan Cole's eyes.
His gaze had been sharp, unreadable. But not indifferent. She saw something shift in him. A flicker. A question.
Her roommate, Tasha, walked in carrying two coffees.
"You were a machine today," she said, tossing Iris a cup. "Did you see Ethan's face when you walked? I think he almost smiled."
Iris smirked. "Did he? I thought he only showed emotion when coffee ran out."
Tasha laughed and flopped onto her bed. "That man is gorgeous but terrifying. Rumor is, he trained a girl who ended up on the Milan runway, then vanished. Nobody knows why he quit. Some say scandal. Some say heartbreak."
"Maybe both," Iris said softly.
She didn't like gossip, but something about Ethan fascinated her. Not just his past, but his restraint. His intensity. He watched people like he was trying to predict how they'd breakâand if he could stop it before they did.
That night, Iris couldn't sleep. Her body was tired, but her mind was restless. She got up and pulled out her journalâthe one she'd kept since her aunt gave it to her on her eighteenth birthday.
She flipped to a blank page and wrote:
> Day One: He noticed me.
Not because I was the best. Because I didn't try to be.
And I think⊠he saw that too.
---
The Next Morning
Ethan stood in his office, a floor above the main studio. The walls were glass, overlooking the practice space like a watchtower. He sipped black coffee, eyes scanning the trainees as they stretched and prepped for the day.
Iris was in the far corner, practicing her walk alone. Not for show. Not for praise. Just focused. Intent.
There was something about her that disturbed his peace.
Not just her talentâbut her presence. It reminded him of someone he used to be. Before everything went wrong in Paris.
"Thinking of promoting someone already?" came a voice behind him.
Ethan turned to see Maya Reyes, co-trainer and longtime friend, leaning in the doorway with a knowing smile.
"She's good," he said simply.
"She's magnetic," Maya replied. "And you've been staring for three minutes. What's the plan?"
"There is no plan," he said curtly. "She gets no special treatment."
"Except surveillance from your glass castle?" Maya teased.
Ethan didn't reply.
He didn't have time for distractions. Especially not ones with deep brown eyes and ambition in their step.
---
Studio Floor â Afternoon
The trainees lined up for drills, but Ethan was clearly focused on one thing: pressure. He pushed them hard, correcting posture, tearing into hesitation, breaking down the weak.
When it was Iris's turn, he circled her slowly.
"Head up. Don't performâcommand."
She adjusted.
"Eyes forward. You want the room? Take it."
She nodded.
He stopped in front of her, closer than before. "Again."
She walked.
Better.
"Again."
She walked.
And for the briefest second, their eyes met as she passed. Heat flickered between them. Something unspoken, just under the surface.
Maya watched from the sidelines, arms folded.
This wasn't going to end well