Chapter 297: A Million Dollar Deal

Mikael slept on his chair as the professor drowned about their lesson. Beside him, Jordan rolled his eyes. He wasn't fond of their major either but they still needed to graduate in order to find a decent job. It took every willpower for him not to fall asleep as well. The professor's monotone voice proved it to be a difficult job.

When class ended, both boys headed for the nearby building.

"Aren't you supposed to be making a better effort at studying?" Jordan nagged.

Mikael glanced his way. "I need proper sleep in order to do that though."

"So you'll choose to sleep in class instead of night like a normal human being?!" Jordan exclaimed, his shoulders weighing heavy. He rolled one in order to massage it. "Maybe you should stay home for a week. Take a break from your shenanigans."

"No, can do. How else am I supposed to earn money?"

"Doesn't your father send you an allowance?"

"I'd rather die than use his money," Mikael sneered. When another student recoiled from being in direct line of his angered expression, he forced himself to calm down and placed his hands at the back of his neck. "And so mom uses it. I guess she got addicted to getting more money that she can't have me expelled."

Jordan heaved a sigh. Although there were probably better ways to handle the situation, he could understand where Mikael was coming from. He decided to drop the subject and focused on their path to the cafeteria. 

They passed by the gymnasium where a significant amount of noise came from. He turned his head towards it as they strolled in front of it. A few banner signs gave them a hint that a fashion show was going on.

"Seems like some exciting stuff happening in the fashion department."

Mikael blinked out of his daze and followed Jordan's line of sight. "The runway show is today, huh? I forgot all about it. That explains the media frenzy earlier. A famous designer should be a part of the event."

Jordan looked in his direction. "Did you learn about that when someone tried to recruit you as a model?"

"In the long explanation on why it's an important event to them."

"You really have no sympathy, Davis."

"I would have accepted if they were paying me for it but they didn't have the budget."

"I am willing to bet you asked for an outrageous price."

"I have to make good use of my looks while still young, after all."

"Is that so?" A feminine voice asked from behind them.

Both boys halted in their steps and glanced over their shoulders. The same woman from earlier had her arms crossed over her chest. Upon closer look, Mikael noticed that her dark brown hair roots had started growing out in contrast to her dyed black hair. 

Her ebony eyes crinkled at the corners. "What's your price, young man?"

Mikael pointed a finger at his chest. "Me?"

"Yes, you." The woman stepped forward and assessed him from head to toe. "I'm also in the runway event, you see. My model had an emergency at the last minute. I've been searching for a replacement and I think you'd do well. I'll pay whatever price you ask for."

"HA!" Mikael cackled. "Don't drop words like that, lady. What if I asked for a million?"

"Then, I'm free to negotiate the terms to get my money's worth."

Jordan's eyebrows shot up at the declaration. The glint in her gaze promised that this offer wasn't a joke. Yet, it didn't seem to be real. Who would drop that much money on a random stranger?

"Look, lady," he said, holding Mikael by the shoulder. "I don't know what game you're playing but my friend is no model. He's not even on an amateur level. Besides, he has bruises and wounds. Nothing like the flawless skin you need."

The woman tilted her head to one side. "It's a total misconception that all models are flawless. We use makeup to cover up what we need to. I can give the money for the event as soon as it's over. I can also give half before it starts. You have nothing to lose essentially."

Mikael made a face, narrowing one eye and curling one corner of his lips downward. He knew that he possessed above average looks but there should be models or trainees crawling to get such an opportunity—people who had the experience to do exactly as she expected.

Why would she waste that much on him?

As if reading his thoughts, the woman smiled. "Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade anything that I don't find worth it. If you want that million, you have to work for it as much as I see fit. You can always ask for a smaller amount. That way you only need to do this one event."

Jordan nodded his head. She did have a point. He sneaked a peek over at Mikael. If this could be a chance for his best friend to stop getting himself into trouble, he'd gladly try to convince Mikael to take it. It should be enough to get that one week break he suggested, right?

Still skeptical, Mikael mimicked her stance. "Lady, if I accept this model gig of yours, you can't complain about what I do and reduce the money. You already know that I lack the skills."

The woman raised the side of her fist to her lips and giggled. "Please. Call me, Luna."

Minutes later, the boys found themselves backstage for the runway event. Staff members approached Luna as soon as they walked into the room. She gave them a set of instructions and they whisked Mikael away to the vanity mirror for makeup and hair.

Jordan stayed a step behind her, observing the chaos. Everyone seemed on edge. There were last minute stitching on dresses. Others used different methods as they saw fit. On one side of the room, an array of food sat on top of a table.

His stomach growled.

Luna arched a brow at him. "Go on. Help yourself. I don't want to be responsible for starving a college student. Bring some to your friend too."

The event was an opportunity for the fashion students to showcase their work. Because of Luna's influence and fame, it became a scouting event for her and other designer brands. The media coverage also spread the event to all interested parties. 

The runway show always ended with a teaser for her upcoming collection—a privilege given to her as the biggest sponsor. She had taken inspiration from the early 1900s, drawing works that highlighted clothing from all social classes. It was a mission of hers to better represent the styles worn by the people during that time.

A display that could embody the entire fashion era not only at its finest but also at its lowest.

Jordan munched on a donut while watching the event through the curtains. Luna stood behind him as she inspected each model before they headed for the runway. Mikael soon emerged for his turn. 

"Worked out better than you thought, huh?" Luna teased.

Turning around, Jordan nearly choked on his strawberry filling. Mikael wore a brown dress shirt and a tan suspenders that matched his trousers. His brown hair and blonde highlights had been swept back on one side. Clip on earrings hung on his exposed ear. The cut on his cheek added to the aesthetic of the look.

Mikael glared at Jordan's dropped jaw. "I dare you not to say anything."

"It's nothing bad…" his best friend defended. "I actually think this look fits you really well."

"And that is why I told you not to say anything."

Luna chuckled at the exchange and patted Mikael on his upper arm. "Break a leg."

When Mikael stepped foot on the runway, blinding lights flashed on his face. His blue eyes squinted and tried their best to see where the floor was. Lines creased across his forehead and both corners of his lips turned down. 

Whispers came from the audience but he didn't care. He just needed to get through this and he'd be richer than yesterday. No idea about poses, he only had one hand tucked inside the pant pocket. His shoulders were slumped as he made his way to the front—not far from how he usually walked.

He turned his head from side to side when he reached the platform. Then, he spun on his heel and turned his back on everyone. The whole thing lasted about two to three minutes before he became safe once again backstage. 

Luna handed over a bundle of cash to Jordan, inserting her business card as well. "Now, that wasn't so bad was it. Tell your friend to contact me if he ever changed his mind about that million dollar deal."

Without another word, she attended to the rest of her crew.

Later that day, Mikael came home. No one greeted him. It almost seemed like no one lived there. His feet directed him towards the kitchen where a woman sat in the dining room. She was mincing a variety of vegetables and dumping them in one bowl.

Mikael cleared his throat to get her attention. 

Then, he tossed the money next to her arm.

"What's this?" His mom asked, pulling out the rubber band and unfolding the wad of bills. Her eyes widened at the amount. "Where did you get this kind of money? Who did you rob?"

Mikael felt his heart squeeze from the accusation. "No one, ma."

She stood up and slammed her hands on the table. The flex in her eyes darkened with fury. "Then, how did you get this?"

"I earned it."

"Don't lie to me, boy!"

"It's true!" Mikael screamed desperately. "We don't need dad anymore, see?"

"What's your father to you? An ATM? He's more than that and you know it."

"Unbelievable…" he breathed out, shaking his head slowly. Tears formed at the back of his eyes. "You still choose him over your own son? He abandoned us, ma."

His mom pursed her lips. "Study, okay? Be a useful son for once."