The head judge looked at me, his tone calm but firm as he repeated, "Ms. Susan, please present and explain your design." Only then did I let out a breath of relief. I quickly put away my phone, straightened my back, and walked toward the display stand with what I hoped was composed elegance. I forced a polite smile and reached out to gesture toward the gown. "This piece came to me one evening while watching a movie," I began, my voice clear and confident. I spoke at length, describing everything from the inspiration behind the design to the smallest details in the fabric and stitching. By the time I finished, I couldn't help but cast a smug glance at Rosaline. Sure, the sketch came from her originally, but I'd put in real effort to make it my own. But as my voice trailed off, I noticed something strange. The expressions on the faces of the other designers ranged from uncertain to downright perplexed. I was confused. I glanced at the gown again. Did I say something wrong? Just then, Camilla stepped out from the crowd, wearing a look of innocent confusion as she studied the dress. "Ms. Susan certainly has a good concept," she said. "But I could've sworn I've seen this gown before. Oh, that's right—it looks almost identical to one from Mr. Fraley's collection. Even the gemstone on the belt is in the same spot." The moment I saw Camilla, I knew the outcome couldn't be good. "I remember reading about it in one of Mr. Fraley's books," she continued casually. "He even called it one of his proudest works. Strange how your design looks so much like his. It couldn't be plagiarism, could it?" She said that casually. I froze at her words. The room buzzed with whispers. Disdainful glances were cast my way, and I could hear the murmurs—clear as day. "I thought that gown looked familiar; indeed, I've seen the same one in Louie Fraley's book before." "Makes you wonder how she ever won anything at past competitions. Plagiarizing now? Seriously?" "Honestly, Loe's ten times the designer she is. Too bad Loe never shows up in person—I've entered this contest every year just hoping I'd get to see him once." Shame crashed over me like a wave. I wanted to sink through the floor. And hearing Loe's name only made it worse. The judges now looked stern, no longer even pretending to hide their disapproval. It was obvious—they saw the resemblance between my supposed original piece and Louie's work. The head judge turned to me, his voice heavy with seriousness. "Ms. Susan, would you care to explain what's going on here?" I froze. Panic rose in my chest. What was I supposed to say? That I'd used a pattern from Loe Studio as a reference? In our field, that was practically the same as stealing—maybe worse. Admitting it would be professional suicide. "I ... no, it's not like that ... " I stammered, shaking my head to deny it. Camilla crossed her arms, pressing, "Then what is it like? Care to explain why your gown is almost a replica of Mr. Fraley's?" I couldn't answer. I just glared at her, seething. The head judge turned away from me and whispered something to the two other panelists. Less than a minute passed before he faced me again, eyes stern. "Ms. Susan," he said, "after reviewing the situation, the judges have unanimously agreed that you are disqualified from this competition. Furthermore, you will not be allowed to participate in future events. Plagiarism is a serious offense in our industry." His words hit like ice water pouring over my head. My palms went clammy. Even my blood felt cold. That statement was a death sentence in the design world. Around me, the other designers wore expressions of ridicule or thinly veiled satisfaction. The head judge turned and walked away without another glance. The rest of the crowd followed, leaving me standing there, completely alone. I stared at the vintage, deep-red gown hanging in the glass case in disbelief. Once dazzling, now it looked like a cruel joke—a silent mockery. Have I lost? Back on stage, the others gathered near the podium. The outcome was already clear. I had once been Loe's only serious rival—but now, with me out of the picture, the winner was obviously him.Sure enough, the head judge stepped up to the microphone and announced, "This year's Design Competition champion is Loe!" The room erupted in applause. No one was surprised—only genuinely happy for the winner. When the judge called for Loe Studio's representative to come forward and accept the award, Camilla didn't move. She simply smiled, graceful and poised, and said, "There's no need for me to accept the trophy today—because Loe is actually here in person."