Chapter 13 — Global Livestream, Her Dress Shows My Name

'If I win an international award this time, even if I retire, it will be worth it.'

'Ha Mat is the best student I have ever trained.'

‘There is no second person.’

The best student. A student is built from my work. My skills. My reputation. I locked my phone screen. Go to the market to buy food. A bunch of green onions. Two tomatoes. Three eggs. Go home and cook a bowl of tomato and egg noodles. Clean the dining table. Rearrange all the furniture on the desk. Then sit on the edge of the bed. Send To Niem a message.

“Are you going to watch the Fashion Week livestream tomorrow?”

To Niem responded immediately.

“Nonsense?”

“Did you think I would take the whole day off to go for a walk?”

I sent another message.

“Watch until the end.”

“No matter what happens.”

“You must watch until the end.”

Maybe she sensed something. Just answer with one word: Then send another sentence.

“No matter what happens tomorrow.”

“You have always been my best friend.”

I put the phone next to the pillow. The streetlight outside the window shined in. Printed on the ceiling was a rectangular streak of light. I looked at that streak of light. Thinking about many things. Thinking about the first time Ha Mat came to me to borrow a manuscript in college. She smiled and said:

“Tinh Tinh, you are so good.”

“I can't draw something like that in my entire life.”

Thinking about the first time Luc Ngan asked me out for dinner. He looked at my hand and asked:

“The calluses on your hands are so beautiful.”

“Is it left behind by drawing too much?”

Thinking about the first time Chu Minh Vien complimented me. He said:

“In the field of traditional textile dyeing.”

“I will go very far.”

Every sentence sounds like the truth. But behind every sentence. They all hide a knife. I closed my eyes. Those knives will return and stab their owners. It's not me who did it. It's the blades they swing themselves. Go around. Then come back. Fashion Week officially begins. The venue is the International Exhibition Center in the city center. Three thousand seats were filled. Media reporter. Purchasing house. Fashion critic. Coming from seventeen different countries. The main stage is a forty meter long catwalk. The two sides are densely packed with lighting and camera systems. The backstage was crowded with people. Makeup expert. Stylist. Designer. Everyone is busy in their area. I entered through the most secluded side entrance backstage. Chu Minh Vien's assistant led me to a small storage room. Three doors away from Ha Mat's dressing room.

“You stay here.”

He gave me a headset and a walkie-talkie.

“If Ha Mat encounters a difficult question on stage.”

“Use your headphones to remind her of the answer.”

“Master Chu sits in the front row of judges.”

“He will use the radio to tell you what the examiner is asking.”

I received the device. Put on your headphones. After the assistant left. The storage room door was still ajar. I could see people passing by in the hallway. Tan Lang walked through the door holding a box of spare fabrics. The steps are very quick. He looked at me. Don't stop. But I saw the corner of the old phone I gave him sticking out of his pocket. The official performance begins at two o'clock in the afternoon. Twelve finalists took turns on stage in order of drawing. Twenty minutes each. Ha Mat is the second person ripe. When the first eight people complete the competition. More than four hours have passed. In the headset, Chu Minh Vien's voice rang out.

“Ready?”

“The next person is Ha Mat.”

“Already ready.”

“I gave you a list of questions that might come up.”

“You probably have it in your hand.”

“Pay special attention to Chung Ngoc Hoa.”

“She asked a very difficult question.”

“Other people won't make things difficult for Ha Mat.”

"I get it."

Walkie talkie disconnected. I picked up the list of questions and looked at them again. There are fifteen prediction questions on it. Each question comes with a standard answer. Question nine. It's about the criss-cross thread locking technique. In the answer. The needle distance is recorded as: 0.5 millimeters. I don't fix it. There started to be noise in the makeup room. Ha Mat wore a bright red phoenix dress and walked out. Walk down the hallway for a final inspection by the stylist. The flared skirt is nearly two meters wide. Under the lights. Like a flowing fire. Luc Ngan followed behind. In his hand he holds a bottle of imported shaping glue.

“It's time to spray setting glue.”

“Wait a minute.”

“Let me look in the mirror one last time.”

Ha Mat stood in front of the full-body mirror on the wall. Look again and again.

“The collar is still a bit tight.”

“Forget it.”

“On stage, I will limit large movements.”

“Let me help you spray.”

Luc Ngan opened the bottle cap. Start spraying on the shoulder of the shirt. Up the skirt. The thin mist covers the fabric surface evenly. The air immediately spread a faint smell of alcohol. My fingers slowly tightened on my knees. The countdown timer... Has begun. Fifteen minutes. From this moment. The alcohol begins to penetrate each layer of fabric.