Yvonne kept her face straight as Nome dabbed at it with brushes of varying sizes. The backstage was a throng of makeup artists, designers, logistical staffs and interns, all scurrying around and making last minute changes or replacements. It was the biggest fashion event in Nigeria and the preparations couldn't be anything less.

From the corner of her eye Yvonne could see Amelia marching to and fro as she made last minute decisions. Amelia was the lead designer of the Amhearst fashion collection, and she was something of a perfectionist. She had already made two changes to Yvonne's attire, and had ordered Nome to retouch the makeup. Amelia looked very unassuming in a black T-shirt and tight fit denims, but that was only a front. She could be a bulldog when she wanted to be.

Yvonne stared straight at the mirror as Nome fixed her lashes. The faraway beat of the music coming from the show downstairs and the slight noise behind her couldn't drown the sound of her beating heart. Yvonne wasn't new at this, but she felt a sudden numbing dread whenever she was about to walk the runway. She had an impressive resume—she had been interviewed by the biggest magazines, walked at the biggest runways around the world and was regularly included in the top quarter of the best models around the world—but the act of walking down the runway and back sent chills down her spine.

She let out a shaky breath as Nome put the finishing touches on her face. The stud on his right earlobe winked and winked.

"It never gets easy," he said.

"I swear to God. Every time it feels like the first time."

Dumping the brush on the table, Nome stood back and appraised his work. Yvonne stared the mirror. She could hardly recognize herself. Her brows were two curving arcs, her lids were like gold dust and her hair was a jet black series of complicated braiding. A small cowry was braided at the middle and it dangled just above her forehead. Yvonne had to admit Amelia was the best indigenous designer she had worked with, despite her exhausting work ethic.

"We're up in four." Amelia's voice cut across the backstage. There was even more flurry as attires flew off racks and makeup were given finishing touches. Yvonne fist bumped Nome as she stood up, gathering the folds of her gown. Her mouth felt incredibly dry as she searched for the portable water cooler she'd seen some interns lugging.

Across the room, Amelia was talking to a small man in suit with a furiously retreating hairline. Yvonne froze as his eyes met hers. The man smiled at Amelia, patted her shoulder and left her scowling at him. Yvonne sighed. It was never a good thing when Davies came looking for you. She put on her sweetest smiles as he nudged his way through to her.

"Davies! A career change?" she asked.

Davies smiled, all bright face and bright teeth. But Yvonne saw through it. Davies was jittery. "You flatter me," he said. He took a hold of her arm and led her to the dark shadows of the clothes rack at the edge of the room. "Where is Victor?" he asked after making sure no one was near.

"Why? What has happened?"

"Victor is missing is what has happened."

Yvonne dry swallowed. She really needed that water soon. Davies was watching her with some air of hope and suspicion about his face. He was panicking, but he hid it well and Yvonne envied him. "How well have you searched for him? His phones, his apartment?"

"I've been at his apartment for the past three weeks and not once has anyone answered. I had the door broken down yesterday and no one was there. His phone was on the bed, the battery as dead as it can be. His car is in the garage. You know how he loves his car."

Yvonne took a deep breath. She wanted a cold drink and a cold bath as soon as possible. Thinking about Victor was a chore, something she had neither the time nor the strength for. But, Davies was visibly worried and she didn't know anyone else who was more adept at solving problems and being in control like he was. If he was worried about Victor then something was up.

"I haven't seen Vic since his birthday. Since his breakup."

Davies snorted. "This isn't his first breakup."

Across the room, models had begun to file out, resplendent in exotic makeup and flamboyant attires. Yvonne could hear a faint wave of applause from the event. "Can we do this after? I'm freaking busy now."

Davies let out a breath. He dabbed at his face with a handkerchief though it wasn't hot. He took a hold of Yvonne's hand. "Look at me," he said. "Look into my eyes. Tell me you don't know where Victor is."

Yvonne drew her hand from his grasp. Amelia was making her way towards them, marching with a piece of paper clutched in her hand and probably ready to deliver her short, nasty lectures about professionalism and time management. Yvonne began to walk away before it got to that. "If I did I'd tell you," she said. "Find Sam, maybe he'd know."

Yvonne doubted her last words to Davies as she walked out onto the runway and into the glare of the cameras, the assessment of the audience. Victor was the most complicated person she knew. He was as charming as the pain he hid so well. He was like a speeding train, like an enthralling story, like an extraordinary piece of art. But she couldn't help but feel that it had a tragic ending. That it was all going to end up in flames.