She Tore Up a Janitor's Sketchbook in Front of Everyone... Three Seconds Later, the Biggest Celebrity at the Gala Needed Her to Save the Night
Chapter 1 — The Sketchbook
The first page drifted to the floor.
Then another.
Then another.
By the time Regina finished tearing apart the sketchbook, dozens of hand-drawn fashion designs were scattered across the polished marble entrance of the city's most prestigious charity gala.
Three hundred guests watched in stunned silence.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled above them.
Champagne glasses froze halfway to people's lips.
The cameras kept rolling.
Regina smiled proudly.
"Now," she said loudly, tossing the last torn page onto the floor, "maybe you'll remember why you're here."
The young woman standing before her never raised her voice.
She wore a simple black janitor's uniform with a name tag that read:
MAYA.
Regina folded her arms.
"You clean floors."
"You don't design couture."
"You certainly don't belong carrying around children's drawings during my event."
Maya looked down at the ruined pages.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Those weren't random sketches.
They were four years of work.
Every design she'd created after finishing twelve-hour cleaning shifts.
Every dream she'd refused to give up.
Quietly, she knelt and began collecting the torn pages.
One by one.
A few guests looked uncomfortable.
Most pretended not to notice.
Regina laughed.
"Someone get her out of here."
The event manager hurried over.
"I'm sorry, Maya."
"You'll have to leave."
Maya simply nodded.
She picked up her cleaning cart.
"I'm leaving," she said softly.
"But before I go..."
She held up one torn page.
"You should never destroy someone's dream just because you can't understand it."
Regina rolled her eyes.
"Dreams don't pay bills."
Maya smiled sadly.
"No."
"But talent does."
Before Regina could answer—
A scream erupted outside.
Every head turned.
A black limousine had just stopped at the front entrance.
The evening's headline guest had arrived.
International movie star...
Vivian Hart.
Camera flashes exploded.
Then...
The entire crowd gasped.
A jagged tear stretched from Vivian's waist to the bottom of her custom-made gown.
The dress was ruined.
Reporters immediately began filming.
Social media livestreams captured every second.
Vivian looked at Regina.
"I walk on stage in ten minutes."
"Fix it."
Regina felt every drop of blood drain from her face.
"Where's the designer?"
"Still at the airport."
"The backup stylist?"
"Forty-five minutes away."
Vivian crossed her arms.
"You have nine."
The entire gala slipped into panic.
Then...
Someone quietly spoke.
"I can help."
Every face turned.
May you like
Maya was still standing near the exit.
Holding her cleaning cart.
