by Steph Nuss
A few seconds later, the lights went out, quieting the room, and then the runway lit up. The backdrop went from black to a dark gray as the music started, and I smiled when I recognized the piano intro to “Let the Drummer Kick” by Citizen Cope. The gray quickly morphed into rainclouds, and the raindrops synced to the piano in the song, so it looked like it was raining as the first model took the runway.
Smoke spewed from where the models entered and exited the runway, making it feel as if we were in the city during the fall, with all the dark clothing moving across the runway. The models weren’t twigs like I thought they’d be. In fact, most of them seemed like they were in good shape for their height.
As Citizen Cope came to an end, a loud crash of thunder sounded throughout the room, and lightning blazed across the backdrop, and then Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” blared through the speakers. The backdrop darkened to black clouds and little bursts of different colored lightning strikes scattered over the screen as the models came out wearing more dramatic, dark clothing. They strutted on the runway, looking fierce, and posed at the end, and the energy in the room instantly escalated.
Toward the end of the song, the models all came back out together and walked the runway one last time, and the crowd erupted in applause. When they exited, Harper stepped out, waved and blew a few kisses, and then quickly went behind the stage again. The lights came back on, and people immediately started milling about and chatting about the show.
“Ohmigawd! That was awesome!” Tessa cheered, standing up.
Paige nodded. “Yeah, it was. I could definitely get used to coming to these.”
“I loved how the clothes matched the music and the effects,” Elly mused, looking at the three of us. “I mean, the raindrops on the screen combined with the everyday wear and the beautiful piano, and then the lightning and drums together with the evening gowns and tuxedos.”
“It was pretty cool,” I admitted. I hadn’t expected to be that into it, but I was. The show really was amazing, and I was glad I came to see it. The clothes, even though I didn’t know jack shit about fashion, did seem to fit perfectly with her song choices, and her effects guy was a genius.
“I want to watch it again,” Tessa said, as the four of us walked backstage.
When I found Harper backstage, she was posing for a picture with some of her models. She saw us and quickly pulled away from the group. Before she could get a word in, I grabbed her face and smiled down at her.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said, kissing her softly on the lips.
“You really liked it?” she asked, beaming.
“He’d be an idiot not to,” Tessa interjected.
Harper laughed. “I’m so glad you guys came.”
“It really was a great show,” Paige said, nodding. “I already know what I want to order.”
“Me too,” Elly said, giving Harper a hug. “It was really amazing. I loved all of it. The clothes. The music. The special effects. It was brilliant.”
“Thanks, guys,” Harper said, smiling.
A phone started ringing and the five of us looked around to see whose it was. I looked up and saw Harper staring down at her phone.
“It’s the clinic,” she said seriously. “Just give me a minute.”
I watched as she walked off for more privacy and answered the call. The clinic staff knew her show was today, so I found it odd that they were calling.
When Harper came back, concern swam in her eyes and she wore a weak smile. “There’s a patient they want me to come in and see. She was supposedly caught skipping school to watch my show, and she’s suffering from anorexia but doesn’t want help. She’s only fifteen.”
Elly grabbed her arm and gave her a small hug. “Then you’re the best mentor for her. You’re someone she looks up to. You can do this.”
“I know, but she’s so young,” Harper said, shaking her head. “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing to her. All of the patients I’ve mentored so far haven’t known who I am, and they’ve been around my age.”
“Her parents probably brought her in,” Elly said, reassuringly. “Talk to them first and get a feel for her. Then talk to her and be honest. Just be yourself.”
Harper nodded and gave each of the girls a hug before turning to me. “Will you come with me to the clinic?”
“Yeah, of course,” I said, taking her hand.
“We’ll have Penny show us back to the car,” Paige said.
“Thanks.”
Imani led Harper and me to the car, and once we were on our way to the gym, I put my arm around her and held her. I knew this patient would be a hard one for Harper. She was clearly a fan, and she was so young. I couldn’t imagine how her parents were dealing with her. I just hoped they didn’t expect Harper to work miracles in a day. People didn’t get over eating disorders just by eating again. It took daily exercises—both physical and mental—to get their minds and bodies back to a healthy state. But I knew Harper could help her get there. She was the best role model the girl could ask for. She’d been through bad times battling with her bulimia, but now, she was healthy and happy and strong. Today, she’d made me proud with her fashion show, but I knew she was going to make me even more proud with her work at my clinic.
Harper
When we got to the clinic, I walked in and saw a worried-looking blond couple holding hands. I could tell the woman had been crying, and the man was rubbing her back trying to console her. They had to be the girl’s parents, and my stomach flipped at the thought of talking to them.
I felt Maverick’s hand on the small of my back and then his mouth brushed my neck. “You can do this.”
Nodding, I gave him a weak smile. “I know … I’ve just never had to deal with the parents of a potential patient before.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. His warm breath against my ear made the knots in my belly loosen. “I’ll be right there with you.”
He tightened his grip on my waist and then held the door open for me. The couple stood when we walked in and tried to smile for us, but I knew it was just for show. They were hurting right now. No parent wanted their child to be suffering, and that’s what gave me the courage to walk over and introduce myself.
I smiled politely. “Hi, I’m—”
“You’re Jen Harper,” the woman said, nodding. “Kingston, our daughter, is a huge fan of yours.”
“Well, Jen Harper is a studio name,” I said, wanting to be more personable with them. “My real name is Harper Jennings. You can call me Harper.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Harper,” the man said, shaking my hand. “I’m Nick Lee, and this is my wife, Tina. We’re members of the gym, and we’d heard you were volunteering here in the clinic.”
Tina’s eyes pooled with tears. “I didn’t know where else to take her.”
I nodded and gestured toward the hallway. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk more privately.”
They followed me down the hall and I showed them into one of the therapy rooms. Maverick closed the door behind him and stood in the corner as I sat down with the Lees. They looked more comfortable on the sofa than sitting in the lobby. I knew privacy was what they wanted and needed right now, especially if they were going to talk more about their daughter.
“Tell me what happened today with Kingston,” I said gently.
Nick nodded. “She’d asked us if she could stay home and watch your fashion show online, but we told her no.”
“School’s more important than a fashion show,” Tina said.
“I agree,” I said, trying to ease their nerves.
Tina smiled weakly and then took a deep breath. “I guess it was just a mother’s intuition, but after I dropped her off at school and watched her go in, I had this feeling that something wasn’t right. So, after I got to work, I called the school and they said she never showed up for any of her classes. I called Nick and he met me at home, where we found her in her room watching your show on her laptop.”
Nick
reached for Tina’s hand and entwined their fingers. “Kingston’s always wanted to be a model. She loves shopping and clothes and anything fashion-related, and we’re a hundred percent supportive of her hobbies and dreams.”
“But she’s just wasting away,” Tina said, choking on her words. She started to cry, and I mentally told myself to keep it together. They needed me to be strong today. I could fall apart later, in the privacy of my own home. “It doesn’t matter how healthy or organic I cook, she won’t eat hardly anything, and I know she’s not eating at school because her teachers have all come to us with the same concerns about her weight. She’s incredibly thin and she doesn’t see anything wrong with it.”
“And how did she feel when you brought her into the clinic?” I asked, trying to get a feel for Kingston.
“She was upset,” Tina sighed, wiping away a tear. “She thinks we don’t support her modeling dreams.”
“Do you have children?” Nick asked, tiredly.
“No,” I said. “But I hope to someday. I know this is difficult for you guys, but I promise, I’m going to do everything in my power to help Kingston get better and stay better. The staff here at Jones Health Clinic is trained to deal with eating disorders, but I’m here specifically for Kingston. I had a mentor when I was in rehab for bulimia, and she changed my life. She helped me get through the bad days because she was someone who knew what I was going through. I want to be that person for Kingston, and with the help of the staff and your support, we’ll help her. If it’s okay with you guys, maybe I could even give her a taste of what it’s like to be in the fashion business. But first we have to get her to commit to the program.”
Tina looked at Nick and started crying harder, and he wrapped his arms around her and nodded. “Thank you. We appreciate any help you can give us.”
“I’m going to go talk to Kingston now,” I said, smiling lightly. “A doctor will be in to talk to you about the program and how everything works.” I covered their linked hands with one of mine, grabbing Tina’s attention. “You did the right thing by bringing her here.”
“Thank you, Harper,” she said softly.
I nodded and then turned to leave. Maverick followed me out into the hallway where I took a deep breath and blinked back my own tears. I could tell how much Nick and Tina loved their daughter. They wouldn’t have brought her here if they didn’t. But a part of me started to fill with hatred toward the industry I worked in because of Kingston’s health issues. I knew designers who encouraged eating disorders if they kept their models thin, and it disgusted me. Just being in the same industry as designers like that pissed me off. After I got out of rehab, I made sure my models were healthy. They were each given the proper tools to stay healthy the right way, and I stayed on top of their health. If a woman was underweight, she didn’t walk for me. If a guy was found to be taking diuretics, he didn’t walk for me. I knew how influential the fashion industry could be, especially to young women like Kingston, and I made sure to set a good example.
“You did well in there, baby,” Maverick said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I said, soberly. I nodded toward Kingston’s room. “I’m going to go talk to her. Make sure someone comes and talks to her parents about everything.”
I walked into the room and found a frail-looking blonde sitting on the couch. She turned at the sound of the door closing behind me and her frown turned to shock when she realized who I was.
“Ohmigawd! You’re Jen Harper!” she exclaimed, hopping up from the couch. She ran over to me smiling. “I’m such a huge fan.”
I smiled weakly and motioned to the couch for her sit. “What’s your name?”
We sat down on the couch together, and she went from excited to nervous in a matter of seconds. “M-my name is Kingston. Kingston Lee.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Kingston,” I said. “My real name is Harper Jennings. Jen Harper is just a studio name, so you can call me Harper.”
“I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you,” she said, looking down at herself. She had a school uniform on, but the material hung off of her weak body. Nothing fit right because she was underweight. Her collarbones stuck out terribly, and the bones of her chest were visible through the neckline of her white button-up. Her cheeks were hollowed. Looking at her bony figure made my heart ache for her. She needed help, and I prayed to god that she’d let me be the person to help her.
“Wait,” she said, furrowing her brows. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to help you.”
“But I don’t need any help,” she denied stubbornly. I sat there for a moment and let it sink in for her. She ran a hand through her golden locks and shot me a fake smile. “Look, I don’t know what my parents told you, but I don’t need to be here.”
“Your parents told me you want to be a model someday,” I said, shifting tactics. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” she said confidently, crossing her legs. “My dream is to walk for you someday. I love your clothes, and you always put on the best shows.”
I swallowed hard, and told myself I had to be strong or else I wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. She was just a kid, and I never wanted to play the bitch card with her. But I did it anyway. “I’d never let you walk for me.”
The smile on her face instantly vanished, and she looked around nervously. I felt awful for crushing her dreams in a blink of an eye, but I kept a straight face. Self-consciously, she glanced down at her uniform and cringed. “May I ask why?”
“You’re way too thin,” I answered, keeping up my stuck-up act.
“But I thought every model had to maintain a certain weight.”
“My models have to be healthy.”
“But I am healthy,” she retorted, seeming even more heartbroken. Tears flooded her arctic blue eyes, and I knew I was getting somewhere. I still felt like a bitch, though.
I took her hand in mine and held it tight. “I used to suffer from bulimia. I’d get stressed out, and I’d binge on food and then I’d throw it all back up. But then a friend of mine died, and even though the report said it was from cardiac arrest, anyone who knew her knew it was a result of her bulimia. Eating disorders take a toll on the body, especially the heart, which can eventually lead to death. I entered rehab for my disorder because I didn’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die, either.”
“But—”
“Kingston, you’re suffering from anorexia,” I said, fighting back tears. “Not eating in an attempt to stay thin is not healthy. If you ever want to see your dreams of walking the runway for me come true, you have to get healthy.” I reached for my purse and took out my book of models. I rarely carried the book with me, but I always had it with me on the day of my shows to make sure each model was wearing the right outfits. I scooted closer to Kingston and turned to the pictures of women who model for me. “All of these women maintain a weight that’s healthy for their body types. My models each have a nutritionist and a personal trainer who help them stay on track, and I get updated health reports for them. So, if a model drops under weight, I won’t let her walk or represent me in any way. As much as I love fashion, I love my models more. I don’t want them killing themselves for their careers, and you shouldn’t be killing yourself for your dream.”
She brushed away a tear and pointed to two girls. “How much do these girls weigh?”
“That girl is 150 pounds, and the other one is around 140,” I said, rubbing Kingston’s arm. “But a girl is not a number on scale. I pick my models based on their ability to walk the runway, the beauty I see in them, and their personalities. My clothes are for everyday people, so everyday people should be modeling them. I want people to see my models and know they can wear what the models are wearing and work it just as well as them.”
“So, if I got healthier, I could model for you someday?” she questioned, glancing up at me hopefully.
“If you commit to the program here at the clinic, I will help make all of your dreams
come true,” I promised, smiling back at her. “I’ll be your mentor here and help you complete the program. But if you want to model for me, you have to stay healthy.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “I just thought this was what models did to stay skinny. I never thought it could kill me.”
“I know. I’ll introduce you to some of my models and you can see what the life is really like,” I assured her. “Here at the clinic you’ll have therapists and doctors working with you to get your body back to health, but as your mentor, I’m here just for you. I’ve been where you are, so if you need to talk about it, I’m the person you can go to. Your friends and your family aren’t going to understand the things you’ll be going through, but I will. I’ll give you my phone number in case you ever need to talk outside of the clinic, but every day you’re here, I’ll be here, too.”
“What about your work?” she asked.
And just like that, I made my decision. Ever since Carter suggested I take a break from work a few months ago, I’d been wavering on the matter. When the article about me cheating came out, I considered it even more. But now, looking at this young girl who needed me, I knew it was time to take a step back from the fashion world and give back.
I brushed my hand over her long blonde hair and smiled. “I’ve actually decided to take a break from designing now that Fashion Week’s over.”
“Why?”
“Because there are things and people in my life right now that are more important than my career,” I answered, confidently. “I plan on helping here at the clinic and focusing on my personal life.”
“What do the models do when you take a break?”
“They’ll take a break, too. They signed contracts with me, so they’ll still get paid even though we’re not flying all over the world for shows. But a break is nice for them once in a while, too. The traveling can get tiring, and being away from their friends and families can be hard. So, this break isn’t just for me.”