"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today’s runway showcase. Thank you all for your unwavering support. We have ten designers presenting their vision alongside their models. Our panel of judges will score these pieces, and the top three will advance to tomorrow’s grand finale. Without further ado, let’s have our models grace the stage!"

The showcase began.

Entry Number One: An off-the-shoulder, form-fitting mermaid gown in a soft sky blue. The diamonds encrusted along the bodice caught the light, creating a look of exquisite, high-end opulence.

Entry Number Two: A strapless design featuring a purple satin bodice transitioning into sheer tulle layers. It was ethereal, perfectly capturing a fairy-tale aesthetic.

Entry Number Three: A midnight-blue, spaghetti-strap mermaid gown accented with starlight sequins—playful, yet deeply mysterious.

Entry Number Four: A vintage lace masterpiece featuring intricate beadwork, exuding a sense of stately, classic elegance.

Entry Number Five: A sheer, bubbly-sleeved design in a white-to-pink gradient, radiating youthful charm.

Entry Number Six: A dreamlike mermaid gown incorporating traditional cloud embroidery, as if the model were standing amidst ocean foam.

Entry Number Seven: A layered blue-and-purple tulle creation that mimicked the iridescent shimmer of a seashell, romantic and refined.

Entry Number Eight: A pearlescent strapless gown featuring delicate silver threading throughout. The hem transitioned from a dark, oceanic blue upward, creating an effect of being entangled in deep-sea kelp.

Entry Number Nine: A sleek, minimalist blue-and-white color-blocked mermaid dress. Sharp, clean, and professional.

Entry Number Ten: A shimmering silver strapless gown, adorned with circular sequins that mimicked the polished scales of a fish.

"Fantastic! All ten models have completed their walk. Judges, please submit your scores!"

The audience and judges erupted into a flurry of debate.

"Number Two is lovely—so light and airy."

"I prefer Number One. She looks like a regal princess."

"Number Eight has such a bold design, I’m leaning that way!"

"Number Five is quite charming as well."

The room hummed with anticipation as everyone waited for the final tally.

"Alright, everyone, please quiet down! The scores are in. Let’s see if your favorites made the cut!"

"Entry Number One: 86 points!"

"Entry Number Two: 84 points!"

"Entry Number Three: 79 points!"

"Entry Number Four: 82 points!"

"Entry Number Five: 80 points!"

"Entry Number Six: 90 points!"

"Entry Number Seven: 88 points!"

"Entry Number Eight: 94 points!"

"Entry Number Nine: 92 points!"

"Entry Number Ten: 79 points!"

"And our finalists moving on to tomorrow’s main event are... Number Eight, Number Nine, and Number Six! A round of applause for our top three designers!"

The room thundered with applause. Marcellus Alexander raised a brow, a flicker of pride crossing his sharp features.

"Evangeline’s design—truly unique, isn't it?" Damian Spencer commented with genuine admiration.

"Of course it is," Marcellus replied.

The host gestured toward the stage. "We invite our three finalists up to explain their creative vision. Let’s hear it for them!"

The designers joined their models under the spotlight.

"Let’s start with our first-place designer, Number Eight."

Evangeline Montgomery took the microphone, her poise effortless. "Hello, everyone. My piece is titled 'Daybreak.' When people think of mermaids, they think of the fairy-tale princess. But the deep sea is dark, terrifying, and vast. Yet, living things always strive to escape the darkness and reach for the surface. This mermaid is fighting the suffocating grip of the abyss to find the light."

A roar of applause followed her words.

"Stunning insight from our first-place designer! She has breathed a soul into her work through her own resilience. We expect great things from her in the future. Now, let’s hear from our second-place designer, Number Nine!"

"Hello, I’m Number Nine. I see the mermaid as a symbol of grace and beauty—someone who commands the ocean with absolute composure. I designed this gown to reflect that innate, regal confidence."

"Excellent. She’s built a narrative of absolute professionalism! And finally, our third finalist, Number Six!"

"Hi, I’m Number Six. If the mermaid princess lives in fairy tales, perhaps she is a divine being ruling the seas. That’s why I replaced the traditional tail with a wave-like hem."

"Incredible imagination from all our finalists! Audience, who do you think will take the win? Join us tomorrow for the finale!"

As the event wrapped up and the crowd began to thin, Marcellus and Damian remained in their seats. Evangeline walked back to the dressing room with Remi Crawford, oblivious to a spiteful glare tracking her every move from the shadows.

When the two women finished removing their makeup and returned to the lobby, the ballroom was nearly empty. Evangeline trotted over to Marcellus, her chin tilted up playfully. "Was I good, or was I good?"

Marcellus reached out and flicked her nose with an indulgent smile. "Fantastic. I knew you’d take the top spot."

"Hehe..." Evangeline hooked her arm through his, looking like the picture of affectionate submission.

Unnoticed, a camera shutter clicked rapidly from a nearby corner.

"Remi, are you exhausted?" Damian asked, reaching out to take her bag.

"I am a little," she sighed.

Without a word of warning, Damian scooped her up into his arms. Remi gasped, her hands reflexively circling his neck. "What are you doing?"

"You said you were tired. I’m carrying you."

Evangeline blinked in shock. Dr. Spencer was moving fast—he was surprisingly bold!

Seeing Evangeline stare at the pair, Marcellus assumed she was envious. He didn’t wait a second before sweeping her off her feet as well. He wouldn't let his Evangeline have a single thing to be jealous of.

"Gosh, you two are such show-offs!" Evangeline teased.

Only then did Marcellus notice the lingering onlookers staring at the two couples. He didn't care. "I’m carrying my own wife. Who cares who’s looking?"

It wasn't that their behavior was "weird"; it was simply that the four of them were so effortlessly striking, they drew eyes wherever they went.

"Alright, let's head out," Marcellus said, carrying Evangeline toward the car.

Damian felt a pang of envy, watching them. *When will I be able to carry Remi home?* His expression soured instantly at the thought.

"Wait—we're just going home? I’m starving!" Evangeline whined.

Damian’s mood swung back to life. "Exactly! Let’s get dinner. My treat!" He hadn't spent enough time with Remi lately. He had to seize every opportunity to build some momentum.

"I want steak!"

"Me too!"

The two women turned to their men, acting as if they were asking for permission, though both knew the answer would be a resounding yes.

They found a quiet steakhouse. At the table, Marcellus began cutting Evangeline’s steak, and Damian immediately followed suit. The two men glared at each other, locked in a silent competition over who could treat their woman better.

Evangeline and Remi shared an exasperated look.