Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

An Unheard Whisper

Summary:
Sienne is a high-class, high-maintenance girl who lives and fights in the fast paced fashion industry. So what happens when she suddenly finds herself in the relatively calm and unstylish place of Forks, Washington? Read and find out! (Enticing isn't it?) Jacob/OC


Notes:


1. Chapter 1

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1827   Review this Chapter

"Obviously she thinks I'm capable of better things," I said simply to the man walking next to me. Our stride was fast paced and eager.

"Sienne," he said coolly, staring ahead, "The only thing you do all day is flip your hair and gloss your lips. What more could you be capable of?"

"Hmm, I suppose it's better than looking at myself all day in the mirror, though. Wouldn't you agree Michael?" I retorted candidly, noticing the way his eyebrow twitched when I mentioned this.

"Hardly," was his short response.

We walked in silence. The only sounds were the ones that came from my stiletto heels and his shiny Prada flats hitting in perfect time against the black tiled floor. Michael stood tall, though not as tall as myself. I was five foot eleven without my heels, so I was accustomed to looking down on people--both figuratively and literally. How could I not? I was a past runway model and America's most promising designer, according to Vogue magazine. Poor Michael's work got little to almost no attention; though it would be a lie to say he was not a good designer. His confidence in his color schemes was equal to the confidence I had in my exotic designs. He was competition to say the least.

We both began working for Viridian Clarke at the same time, a year ago, when she was taking interns. I was only 19 and Michael 22. Naturally our age difference was one to be jealous of--purely because I had always been right next to him in the climb to recognition, especially Viridian's. I'm sure he had expected me to break under the pressure that accompanied the high fashion industry. But growing up with a fashion coordinator for a mother and a fashion photographer as a father had not left me fainthearted. The runway was my playground and Paris, Milan, and London my home. Stress was second nature to me.

We came to a large, white, double door entrance. The doorway, of course, led to Viridian's personal office. Michael stretched out one of his hands and rapped loudly upon the stained wood. The sound echoed in the large hallways. It was safe to say Viridian liked things big.

"Come in," said a scratchy voice from the speaker next to the hinges.

My co-worker twisted the crystal handle and pushed inward, making a passageway big enough for one person to fit through. He slipped inside and began to shut the door, but my hand pushed the opposite way against it, and stopped him.

He turned back to look at me, a fake apologetic glance on his face, " Oh I'm sorry, Sienne, I guess I forgot you were there."

"Oh ha-ha, Michael, very mature," I sneered, stepping inside.

"Michael, Sienne," a voice called from behind a red desk against the back wall, "Fighting as always. You know, if I didn't believe in competition I would fire both of you."

"Yes lovely day," I said dryly.

"You rang?" Michael said walking to the prestigious woman who sat in a white leather swivel chair. I followed.

"Yes, I did," Viridian said twisting a lock of her long blonde hair with a finger, something I noticed she did when she was irritated. "Sit."

We both promptly sat in the soft, low-seated chairs in front of her work area. I folded my hands neatly in my lap, waiting. I could only guess what this meeting was about. Our last show in France was just completed. Usually we had some down time before beginning the next big project.

I glanced quickly at Michael. His face also looked confused, and I was pleased to see that he did not know more than me.

"As you well know Viridian Clarke only uses faux fur in our designs," Viridian began, her cold blue eyes staring at Michael, then me.

"Of course," Michael interrupted stupidly, " Viridian Clarke is a nature-friendly design company."

"Please, don't disrupt," she said sharply. Michael bowed his head, like a reprimanded dog. I smirked.

"Anyway," she continued, "Someone in this company has been making and selling designs with real fur in them."

I inhaled sharply and Viridian turned to me, "Now how they could pass them off as Viridian originals is beyond me, but they did. Mostly to other designers."

It was shocking news. Of course, fraud was not an uncommon thing in the fashion world, but rarely was it committed inside the company, mostly it was an outsider's job. Then I began connecting the dots...

"Oh," I said rapidly, "You don't think... you can't mean that we," I motioned between me and Michael, "Had anything... that we..."

Michael's face looked horrified, " I swear Viridian, I never did anything like that. It was Sienne, I know it was!"

It was my turn to be horrified, "You liar, I've never ever used real fur in my life! Never. Where as Michael used fur all the time while he was freelancing with Vershaci."

"That is completely irrelevant," he said to me, his voice rising in anger.

"How so? I find it completely re--"

"Guys!" Viridian shouted impatiently, " You two are worse than two year olds. Show some decorum."

We both mumbled apologies.

She inhaled deeply before speaking again, " Besides I was not blaming either of you for the knock-offs. The person who was doing it has been caught and turned over to the authorities."

"Who was it?" I blurted, unable to contain my curiosity. I bit my lip as Viridian rolled her eyes and Michael sneered.

"It was Lacey from textiles," she said quickly and then continued, "I called you down here because I have an assignment for the two of you."

She stared at us, daring us to interrupt her again. We merely nodded and she continued, "Because of this scandal we need a new campaign telling the world that we are still nature-friendly."

She pulled open a drawer in her desk and reaching inside said, "Vogue magazine has agreed to feature an article and pictures from this campaign."

She set a manila folder on her desk and pushed it towards us, "Look at these and tell me what you think."

I quickly snatched it up before Michael's greedy hands could. He glared at me coolly and then motioned for me to open it. I did.

Inside were several pictures, scraps of fabric, and magazine cut-outs. I picked up the pictures. There were pictures of a lake, sparkling deep blue water surrounded by loads of trees. Mountains rose up majestically behind the body of water, silhouetted against the brightest blue sky I had ever seen. It looked so clean, so untouched by modern pollution.

"Alaska," Viridian said to me, " the location of our next shoot."

I looked up quickly, "We're going to do this in the wilderness?"

"Where better to show people that we love nature than in nature itself?" she said lifting an eyebrow.

"I was thinking a set," I confessed, "Everything is controlled and we know what we're expecting and working with. Plus no bugs."

Viridian smiled a bit, then nodded, "I agree that there are advantages to a set, like weather and lighting, but it's not the feel we're going for."

"But Viridian Clarke's not about nature. It's about exotic designs and bolds colors... we've never done a backwoods thing before," I complained.

"Which is why people don't know for sure that we would not use real fur," she countered. "We need to make sure they do."

I bit my lip, unsure. But I lowered my gaze back to the pictures and continued to look through them. Now there were pictures of animals: wolves, a bald eagle, and a fat rodent-looking thing.

"What is that?" I asked disgusted.

Viridian held her hand out for the photo. I gave it to her.

"Badger," she said simply, as if she expected me to know what it was. I took the picture back and looked at the ugly, snarling creature.

" I don't understand where you're going with this," Michael said confused, holding pieces of brown and green cloth in his hands.

" I was thinking about either a Native American or something like woodland sprite," she said, "There's more fabric in there."

I pulled out swatches of see through blue fabric with creams and lacey whites.

"Yeah, we could do something like old Germany shifts with this lace," I placed the delicate lace on her desk, "On top of the blue."

Michael shook his head, " I think we should go with Native American with a modern twist. Cutting lines, with edgy hair."

"But," I said, "I think the browns would blend in too much with the trees and the green with the foliage. We should make the model stand out more."

"Well who said we don't want them to blend in, we're trying to show that we're one with nature."

I snorted, " We're just trying to show that we appreciate nature. We're not trying to be tree huggers."

"Native Americans always appreciated nature," he retorted, his voice rising, "And I think we should have more than one model."

"Fine," I said, my temper flaring, "But why not three woodland sprites? It adds that magical and soft touch that reaches the audience."

"Ok these ideas are good," Viridian broke in. " I suggest you take a plane to Fairbanks, Alaska and scope out your location before you do anything else."

My anger fled at the idea of going on a plane. I was afraid of heights and deathly afraid of flying. It was an illogical fear... nothing from my childhood had caused me to hate flying... I just did. I only flew when it was absolutely necessary... like flying across seas. And even then I spent the majority of the time vomiting. It was not a fun thing, flying.

"Oh... um," I began nervously, my hands clammy, "Isn't Alaska still connected to land?"

"Yes," Viridian answered, confused, "Why?"

"Uh..." I started but was spared the pains of explaining because Michael so graciously answered for me.

"Poor Sienne," he tsked, " She's afraid of flying," he explained to Viridian.

I blushed and mumbled, " Shut up Michael."

"Ah well," he said jubilantly, "I suppose I shall have to go alone."

" No, no," she said motioning for Michael to be quiet, "I'm sorry Sienne, I had forgotten how sick you had gotten on our trip to Paris."

I nodded and gave a half-hearted smile.

She continued, "So you guys will be driving."

"What?!" Michael exclaimed, "But Viridian it will take over three days to drive from L.A. to Alaska."

"Which will give you two more time to discuss this and to, hopefully, become better friends," when she saw me and Michael sneer at each other she rephrased herself, "Or acquaintances."

Michael snorted and Viridian shot him a death glare, "You two are my best designers. I need you to collaborate and cooperate with each other."

We agreed reluctantly.

She nodded, " Good. Now pick your team today. You leave tomorrow morning."

I held my groan--tomorrow was going to be a long day.