After departing the West Coast at 8 a.m., Simon arrived in New York around 3 p.m. Eastern Time.
It was the fourth day of New York Fashion Week, a seven-day spectacle of glamour and creativity.
Simon headed straight to his Fifth Avenue apartment, where Sophia Fessy also arrived shortly after. Sophia had been in New York since Fashion Week's opening last week, overseeing the runway shows for CK and other smaller brands under Melisandre. She was also there to personally manage Melisandre's brand party over the weekend.
While Melisandre's American operations were primarily focused on CK and a few niche brands, the U.S. market accounted for 30% of the group's total sales. Even though flagship brands like Gucci, Versace, and Burberry didn't host shows in the U.S., the company always prioritized its marketing and promotional efforts in North America.
Both Simon and Sophia had been busy for days. Upon meeting, they tacitly avoided discussing work, instead taking a long shower together. Afterward, they rested in bed briefly, and before they knew it, twilight had fallen.
Without turning on the lights, Sophia, dressed in a soft pink silk robe, began buttoning Simon's shirt. Her voice was gentle but tinged with playful reproach.
"When I head to Los Angeles tomorrow, I'll have to settle accounts with Janet. I couldn't be there for Snow and Greenwich's first birthday, which was unavoidable since I didn't want to intrude in Melbourne and be a nuisance. But she didn't even remind you about it! That was definitely on purpose."
Last month, on August 18, their twins Snow and Greenwich had celebrated their first birthday.
Simon initially remembered the occasion, but when the time came, he forgot due to his overwhelming schedule. He only arrived in Melbourne the day after their birthday. Hearing Sophia mention it now, he admitted his mistake.
"You should settle accounts with me instead. I genuinely forgot."
Simon's indifference to birthdays was deeply ingrained. In his previous life, he rarely celebrated his birthday. Even in this life, his original self had grown up unfamiliar with such occasions, and holidays of any kind held little significance to him.
Sophia finished the last button, looked up at Simon, and kissed him softly.
"It's not your fault," she whispered, "but I'll still have a word with Janet. She knows you so well, yet deliberately didn't remind you. And afterward, she made sure to tell me you missed the party—pure mischief."
"Fine, settle accounts, but don't let it turn into a fight."
Sophia rolled her eyes playfully before suddenly asking, "What about Melbourne's birthday? Do you remember?"
Simon paused, trying to recall. Seeing Sophia's eager expression, he answered, "Uh, around March 13th—wait, no, that's Janet's birthday."
"I don't even know if I should be mad. You can't recall Melbourne's birthday, but you know Janet's by heart."
"Actually, yours is… uh, let me think…"
"Don't even try," Sophia warned, narrowing her eyes. "Let's drop this topic. You should go downstairs."
Simon stayed put, studying Sophia's elegantly maintained figure in the dim light. "You dressed me; let me return the favor."
"No, thank you."
Ignoring her protest, Simon insisted, enjoying the novelty of helping her dress. The playful interruption almost made them abandon their evening plans altogether.
Eventually, the two made their way downstairs, where dinner was waiting.
Their housekeeper, Angri Davis, personally served the meal, occasionally glancing at Sophia's radiant complexion with a touch of envy.
They chatted about recent trivialities during the warm, intimate dinner, which lasted until nearly 8 p.m.
At 8:30, they were scheduled to attend a fashion show followed by an after-party.
The show wasn't particularly significant—it was for a small brand Melisandre had acquired earlier this year—but shared experiences and interests were the glue of lasting relationships.
On the drive to Bryant Park, Sophia finally mentioned the show. "The brand is by a Chinese-American designer named Anna Sui. She started with cosmetics in the 1980s and transitioned to fashion in 1991 with her first show. Her style is very avant-garde and eclectic, so it's always been niche."
Simon, who had largely delegated Melisandre's expansion to its management, responded with curiosity. "Avant-garde and eclectic? Isn't that CK's territory?"
"Not quite," Sophia replied. "CK is bold and provocative. Anna Sui is eccentric and lavish. You'll see."
Her remark piqued Simon's interest further.
Sophia continued, "The main reason for the acquisition was Anna herself. She's incredibly resilient. Like many Chinese immigrants, she has a remarkable work ethic. At 41, she's been chasing her dream for decades. She graduated from Parsons in the '70s, started working out of a rented apartment, and subsidized her brand by working as a hairstylist. It wasn't until the late '80s that she saw a breakthrough. Even now, she works seven days a week, more than ten hours a day. After learning her story, I knew investing in her brand was the right choice."
Simon nodded in agreement. Recalling his own fragmented memories, he realized Anna Sui's brand had retained its relevance even decades later.
Fashion was a ruthless industry. The survival of legacy brands like Gucci, Dior, and Chanel or niche labels like Anna Sui and Chloé was the result of decades of attrition. Most fledgling labels never made it past their first decade. Brands lasting over a century were nothing short of miraculous.
If Anna Sui's brand could remain in his memory after so many years, it was undeniably remarkable.
The show marked Anna Sui's first public appearance under Melisandre's ownership and was strategically significant for introducing the brand to a wider audience. The event's scale exceeded typical niche labels, with a larger tent and upgraded models and guest lists.
As Simon and Sophia entered through the backstage area, Anna Sui herself greeted them—a petite woman with round features and black hair, clad in a black trench coat. Upon seeing Simon, she froze in disbelief, her assistant behind her gaping as well.
Sophia had to prompt them gently, even gesturing for silence.
Anna finally gathered her courage, extending a hesitant hand. "H-hello, Mr. Westeros. I'm Anna."
Simon shook her hand lightly. "Hello, Anna. Could you show us to our seats? Also, I hope you don't mind that I brought two bodyguards along."
"Of course, not at all," Anna said quickly, glancing at the tall figures in black behind Simon before motioning them forward. "This way, please."
As they walked through the backstage area, the models and staff quickly learned of Simon's presence. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and nerves. Some models who shared history with Simon barely restrained themselves from approaching him.
Simon, however, remained composed, taking seats in the last row of the VIP section with Sophia—away from cameras but offering an excellent view of the runway.
The show began with a burst of rock music.
The opening model, with impossibly long legs, was Nadja Auermann, striding out in a striking blood-red gown adorned with intricate floral embroidery, beads, and tassels. Her smoky makeup and disheveled hair added to her witch-like allure.
Sophia leaned close to Simon and whispered, "I told Anna to let her creativity run wild. What do you think?"
"Impressive," Simon replied, "but I doubt many women would dare wear that in public."
"They will," Sophia said confidently. "With the right promotion, they will."
As the show progressed, more supermodels graced the runway: Linda Evangelista in a dark blue tube dress with Pop Art graffiti, Naomi Campbell, Eva Herzigová, and Roberta Chiurco—all exuding Anna's signature eccentric glamour.
Among the lesser-known models, Simon spotted two familiar faces: Tao Yuelei and Jane Xin, two Chinese models under Elite who had recently caught his eye. Their progress on the runway clearly showed their hard work, meeting the high standards Simon had set for his chosen Victoria's Secret Angels.
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