Runway - 1. Chapter 1

A hush fell over the auditorium as the lights dimmed, leaving the long runway; thrusting into the middle of the audience; lit with muted spotlights. The screen at the back exploded with fireworks as the first models stepped onto the catwalk.

The audience watched keenly and made notes and sketches of the latest cutting edge collections. There were a lot of retro looks they noted. As usual the audience was made up of a mixed bunch from rival designers, to fashion students, to representatives of the major fashion houses and chain stores.

The designs were scrutinised, criticised and plagiarised in the blink of an eyelid.

Tonight, however, the audience was slightly different. Among the fashion reporters, designers and various fashionistas there were a strange assortment of young people of all ages and ‘types’ who seemed uninterested in the women who strutted and posed on the platform.

They weren’t here for the high fashion; generally it bored them. They were here for two things… two people to be exact. The models and super models strutted and posed with the screen behind the catwalk showing pictures that complemented the collections that were being displayed.

For all the attention the serious fashionistas were paying the beautiful moving mannequins, they were also on edge, waiting for something different, simply passing the time, the edge rubbed off the usual excitement at the stunning new collections by cutting edge designers. They too were waiting.

It was more than half an hour into the show when suddenly everything stopped. For a moment the entire auditorium fell silent. The screen lit up with a giant fan made of feathers; black and red, almost trembling in anticipation.

And then a single figure stepped onto the runway and seemed to glide along its length. Beautifully androgynous with long pale hair that floated as he walked and skin so pale it seemed to shine, pearlised by the lights.

The model seemed fragile and icy, his pale looks set off dramatically by the long black coat he was wearing which cradled his head in a nest of black feathers that spilled down the front of the coat which was open at the front and almost touched the floor at the back. Beneath the coat he wore a pure white jumpsuit; feathers of pale blue lined the neck, plunging nearly to his waist and then hanging from strings of crystal suspending from his incredibly slender waist. The look was completed by a pair of high heeled knee high boots with black feathers around the top and sparkling crystals on the laces.

He was like a wraith, his face set in an expression of detached serenity and his ice blue eyes looking at something no one else could see.

Lightbulbs flashed from all directions and, with practiced poise, he held his head tilted at exactly the right angle, shaking his hair in exactly the right way. He was elegant and beautiful and cold. There was more than one person in the audience who had the feeling that if they reached out their hand to touch him he would be icy and would shatter in a thousand shards of glittering crystal ice.

The young people in the audience, unused to the solemnity of such occasions applauded and shouted, rising to their feet as if it was some kind of music concert and, indeed the chilly, haughty beauty who paused and turned smoothly at the end of the catwalk, had almost the status of a rock star.

He had been on the scene for only a few months and already his face was on magazine covers and posters everywhere. Boys and girls alike were attracted to this aloof, unattainable beauty; as delicate as a flower as strong as a diamond. He was beauty incarnate who could make anyone’s clothes look special.

If he heard the applause; if he saw the hungry looks in the eyes of the rich and famous who lined the catwalk, so close they could have touched him; he gave no sign of it as he paused, slipped off the coat revealing the catsuit. The sparkling whiteness was only a few shades lighter than his skin. The pale gold of his hair, released from its feathery nest, cascaded almost to his waist and fanned out around him as he spun gently to glide back along the catwalk in the way he had come, the coat dragging negligently behind him.

There was a hush as everyone followed him with their eyes, breathless, until he disappeared behind the screen. For a moment there was a sense of relief as everyone let out their breath in a sigh. But then the music that accompanied the models in their long walk subtly changed and a steady heartbeat started to raise the temperature and anticipation was almost palpable in the auditorium.

If the audience had held their breath for the last model, this time they were panting. Everyone unconsciously leaned forward a little in their seats. The black fan remained on the screen, only the background darkened so it was merely a shadow. Behind the shadow red and white fireworks silently exploded.

There was a moment of absolute silence and then a figure strode onto the runway and there was an explosion of sound. There couldn’t have been more of a contrast between the two models. Whereas the last had been an ice queen this one was… not. Passion was oozing from every pore.

As dark as his predecessor was fair, he too had the stunning androgynous beauty that could look softly feminine one minute and strongly masculine the next. And there was nothing remotely feminine in the way he was owning the catwalk today.

His narrow hips had been poured into a pair of black leather trousers and his chest was bare apart from the black feathers which ran from the waistband of his trousers, around the back of his neck and back down to the waistband again. He wore the same feathers in bands around his wrists and he was barefoot. There were no crystals or sparkle. He looked like the bird from which he took his name; a sleek, black raven.

He strode out onto the runway with an air of supreme confidence and a restrained energy that bordered on aggression. Unlike the previous model he did not keep his eyes on something outside the hall, his eyes constantly flicked over the audience making everyone think he was looking at them. This effect was enhanced by the fact that he wore contact lenses that made his eyes completely black with no white at all; making impossible to know where he was, in fact looking.

About a third of the way down the runway he paused, posed and looked around. Again an expectant hush fell.

Suddenly the boy grinned, took three quick steps and launched himself into the air. Starting with two quick cartwheels he flew through a series of gravity defying leaps and tumbles ending with a double back flip which left him crouched on one knee at the end of the runway glaring balefully at the audience, turning his head from side to side like a bird or a panther waiting to leap.

The auditorium erupted.

After pausing, crouched for ever so slightly longer than he should, he bounded to his feet and stalked back up the runway to a cacophony of noise. Even the great and the good in the front rows were flushed and leaning forward in their seats.

Not everyone, however, was happy with the performance. The show director was waiting for him backstage and was on him as soon as he stepped off the platform.

“What the hell do you think you were doing? This is a fashion show not a circus.”

Raven shrugged and ignored him as he started to strip off the costume and hand it to the wardrobe mistress ready for a quick change into his next. The director put his hand on Raven’s arm. “I’m serious, Raven. If you are even thinking of pulling a stunt like that then don’t go out there again.”

“Really?” Raven purred. “You really don’t want me to go out there? You really don’t want me to give them what they want? They are here to see me… me and Alex… without us you don’t have a show and if you really don’t want me to go out there then neither will he.”

“It’s bad enough that you are going maverick, Raven; don’t take Alex down with you.”

“I’m not taking Alex anywhere. He has a mind of his own.”

“Maybe, but you know what Alex is like…”

“And what is Alex like?” a cool voice asked from behind him. He spun to find Alex standing with his hands on his hips, his pale hair like a shroud over the black cape that draped his shoulders.

“You know what he’s like, Alex. He’s crazy. You’re better off staying well away from him. He’s trouble.”

“He’s trouble that makes you a lot of money. If you don’t want us in your show you shouldn’t have booked us.”

“Us? Since when did you come as a pair?”

Alex brought the full weight of his cold, steady look to bear on the director. Then, very slowly and deliberately, keeping his icy eyes on the director the whole time he stalked over to Raven, slung his arm around his shoulder, while Raven slid his hand around Alex’s waist, and they kissed. Flicking eyes that were no longer cold back at the stunned director he slipped around Raven and sauntered almost casually out onto the runway.

“You’d better make up your mind.”

“What?” the director snapped.

“You need to make up your mind if you want us to finish the show. I won’t have time to meet my mark if you don’t let me change.”

The stunned director shook his head and then laughed. “Just do what you want, Raven; that’s all you are ever going to do anyway isn’t it?”

Raven didn’t answer; he simply grinned and turned away.

Story Discussion