CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN – CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

Jasmine watched in abject horror as the chaos unfolded, each model's misfortune more outrageous than the last. Sequined gowns tore asunder, towering headpieces went flying, and one particularly unfortunate soul ended up sprawled on the catwalk, her dress quite literally bursting at the seams in a riot of feathers and beaded embellishments. The audience, for their part, seemed torn between shock and raucous delight. Gasps and titters of laughter rippled through the crowd as the spectacle played out before their disbelieving eyes. As the last model hit the deck in a crumpled, sequined heap, all eyes turned to Jasmine, the sole figure still standing amidst the wreckage. For a beat, there was utter silence, a strange, charged energy crackling through the air. Then, from the back of the auditorium, a single voice rang out, shattering the tension. "Work it, girl!" The familiar cry could belong to none other than Felicity, and it acted as a catalyst, igniting a frenzy of cheers and rio