Winning My Ex-Crush

Laird’s POV

“What did you say?”

Fenella stared at me, her mouth agape and her forehead creased. I almost ignored all of Fenella’s reactions as I chose to focus on driving to Fenella’s apartment. It wouldn’t be funny if we got into another car accident just because of that girl’s shrieking.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Are you seriously suggesting that to me? Are you out of your mind?” she asked, still in a high voice.

I glanced at Fenella, and it seemed like she completely rejected my suggestion. I knew the girl wouldn’t accept my advice, but I kept trying. I would keep trying until she stopped engaging in some madness with a sociopath named Alan Schmidt.

“Trust me, Fenella. I know people like Alan well. He’s not someone you can trust,” I insisted to the girl.

“Yes, but should I stop being a model and leave Gene just because of Alan? Uh, no, Mr. Great Evans. I will be Gene’s top model, period.”

Her hands were folded, and she stared at me as if I had suggested she do something even more dangerous. Truly, I did it for Fenella’s own good.

“Think logically, Fenella. He will manipulate your emotions, like he did earlier, by inciting you. You said he’s good at charming, and he played your favorite song to make you feel safe, even though you should have been panicking because he took a very dangerous path.”

“If you continue to work at Gene and Alan remains the boss there, then you will definitely be pushed like earlier. You will be persuaded to do something outside your comfort zone, which once again could be dangerous for you, and then he will come as if he’s your hero and use your guilt to support him.”

“How low are you willing to stoop by following Alan?”

I tried to inject some logic into the girl’s head. After my experiences dealing with various types of clients, coupled with my experiences dealing with two sets of parents who both have personality disorders, I was very sure that Alan would be dangerous for Fenella.

I didn’t want the girl to become a victim and end up going in the wrong direction. For God’s sake, she’s still very young!

But it seemed like my words went unheard by Fenella. She continued to glare at me and fold her arms across her chest. This is very typical of a woman taking a defensive stance.

“You don’t know anything, Laird. Don’t speak as if you’re a criminology expert or a psychiatrist who can diagnose that Alan did all that intentionally,” Fenella defended Alan again.

“You said that he did it to entertain me. Humans won’t know when accidents will befall them, so I consider all of this just sheer bad luck.”

“Moreover, I only know how to be a model. I’ve been with Gene for seven years, and everything has been fine. Whatever problem arises can easily be resolved.” She shrugged.

“Then why, when you came into my life now, did you act as if you knew my entire journey up to this point? Why do you feel entitled to change it?” she asked rhetorically, still rejecting my idea.

“Because I care.” I couldn’t stand Fenella’s accusations.

“I care about your safety and your future. We’ve known each other for so long, since we were kids. Seven years apart doesn’t compare to the time we spent together from birth until high school graduation.” I tried again, with a softer tone, to get her to listen to me.

“Listen, I can’t bear to see you being manipulated by Alan like this. You deserve better than being Alan’s puppet.” I pleaded with her.

“I’m not telling you to stop being a model. Do what you want if that’s your passion. But I ask you to stay away from Alan and stop obeying him. He will only bring disaster to you,” I implored.

“Who says I’m his puppet? I had the right to determine what I wanted to do, and he paid me for it,” she said, shaking her head.

“Now I am very close to achieving my goal and have reached the point of becoming the top model at a prestigious mother agency in New York. Are you asking me to throw away that opportunity?” Fenella stayed with her opinion.

“Fine, tell me what your goal is. To become a successful supermodel? You can do that at another agency,” I said.

“No other agency will accept me besides Alan,” she countered.

“That’s your problem. Why don’t you believe in yourself? In your talent, in your hard work, and in your personality. Why do you feel inferior to switching agencies?” I continued to press her.

“Do you think that’s easy? You don’t know anything about the fashion world. Just one bad opinion about me from Alan as the owner of Gene, and it’s over. My current position is already critical because my age is considered too old to be a fashion model.”

“Do you know how many new models debuted this year? Hundreds!” she retorted.

She then fell silent for a long time, and I glanced at her to observe her face. It turned out she was crying. I could see the glistening teardrops on her cheek reflecting the light from the street lamp.

“Oh no. Why are you crying?” I let out a long breath.

“Because I really want to be Gene’s top model. I want to be more successful and continue to be a model. This is my only chance, and only Alan is willing to accept me.” Her voice cracked and hoarse amid her uncontrollable sobs.

“I just want to be your type of girl. I want you to like me. Why are you stopping my dream?”

Upon hearing Fenella’s confession, I was taken aback. The corner of my mouth curled as I listened to her words.

What did she say? Does that mean her goal to become a model is so she can be the type of girl I like? Is all her hard work just for that? Suddenly, my heart raced, and my emotions calmed down as quickly as lightning.

“I’ve told you, you misunderstood. I never remember telling you that my type of girl is a successful supermodel,” I said, still with a faint smile and a softer tone of voice.

“Yes, you did! You told me you like girls like Charlotte McMillian!” Fenella suddenly snapped at me again.

“Who?” I asked, furrowing my brow.