Chapter 35: The Disputed Dress

Chapter 35: The Disputed Dress

On the day of the shoot, the model had yet to appear on set. Emily's assistant dashed back from the dressing room, looking flustered.

"Alisa, the model wants to change her outfit!"

"What?" Emily was taken aback. "But the costumes were all finalized in advance. What does she want to change into?"

The assistant grimaced. "She says our dress is unappealing and has her eye on another one."

"Which one?" Emily's tone was growing impatient.

The assistant hesitated, glancing nervously at Emily's face. "The gold gown that just arrived today…"

Emily's eyes narrowed.

So, the model had her sights on the custom-made gold gown that Emily had been eagerly anticipating. The dress was a high-fashion piece, personally tailored for her during a recent trip to the Italian Fashion Week. Such a custom creation didn't just require connections; it also came with a hefty price tag.

But it was worth it to Emily—she had waited for weeks for this dress to arrive, crossing oceans to be in her possession.

And now, someone wanted to wear her cherished gown?

Not to mention that Emily had a strict rule about never wearing clothes that others had worn before. And this dress, which had cost six figures, was certainly not designed to be submerged in water for a photoshoot.

The assistant looked at Emily, clearly worried. "The costume designer has been talking to her for a while, but she's refusing to change. The room's in a bit of a standoff right now."

Emily let out a sharp breath. "Alright, let's go see what's going on."

When she saw Lucas, the model, Emily was reminded of a common rule in the entertainment industry: those with the least talent often have the biggest attitudes.

Over the years, Emily had worked with many big names—seasoned professionals who were usually humble and down-to-earth. But models like Lucas, a minor celebrity primarily known for reality TV, often displayed the most diva-like behavior.

Emily explained that the outfit they had prepared was specifically designed for underwater photography. The dress Lucas wanted, however, was her personal gown and couldn't be used for the shoot.

But Lucas wasn't having it. "Your personal dress? That's perfect then!"

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I think your mermaid-style gown fits the theme perfectly. When we shoot movies, we often use our own clothes. As the photographer, shouldn't you be ensuring the best results? Other photographers sometimes use their personal items for shoots, don't they?"

Emily could only silently curse.

The flawed logic in Lucas's argument was overwhelming. Where should she even begin?

Yes, I'm a photographer, but that doesn't make me your personal stylist, Emily thought.

And I don't care what other photographers do with their personal belongings. I decide what happens to mine. If I don't want to, you can't force me by guilting me into it.

But instead of voicing her frustrations, Emily remained calm and simply looked Lucas over with a critical eye. "What's your waist size?"

Lucas blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Your waist size."

"Uh… 65 centimeters?"

"That won't work," Emily said flatly. "Your waist is too big. You won't fit into my dress."

Lucas's expression darkened at the word "fit."

She glanced down at her waist and then at Emily's obviously smaller one, feeling a wave of indignation rising.

"If you really want to wear it, that's fine." Emily was done with this conversation. She walked over, grabbed her dress off the rack, and held it up.

"This is my dress. If you want it, you can buy it yourself," she said, showing Lucas the brand tag. "You could try to borrow it from the brand, or you could have one custom-made. It's not too expensive, only twelve thousand."

She paused for effect. "U.S. dollars."

Lucas's jaw dropped, and she fell silent under Emily's firm gaze.

"So, are you still interested?" Emily handed the dress to her assistant and checked her watch.

"I'll give you two minutes. Either you change into the provided outfit and get in the water, or you can break your contract and leave."

She tilted her head slightly, her tone uncompromising. "Your choice."

**

"Chairman Harrison, I've looked into it," Jason said as he entered Ethan's office. "The issue was with the model. But Alisa has already taken care of it. The shoot's just running a bit late."

Ethan looked up. "What was the problem with the model?"

Jason hesitated. "She didn't like the outfit and wanted to wear one of Alisa's dresses instead."

Ethan's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he caught onto the issue. "She wanted to wear Alisa's dress?"

He was incredulous. "She wanted to wear Emily's dress?"

Jason nodded.

Ethan's eyebrows remained raised, his expression one of sheer disbelief. "The nerve! How dare she try to take her dress?"

Ethan leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin as he thought for a moment.

"Send someone to the studio to check if they need anything. If they do, just buy it outright—don't bother with rentals."

"Understood," Jason replied.

"And contact a few of Emily's favorite brands. Have them send their latest collections directly to her apartment—charge it to my account."

Jason hesitated before nodding again. "Got it."

As Jason left, Ethan drummed his fingers on the desk, his mind still on the incident.

"By the way, who was the model today?" he asked.

Jason tapped on his tablet and handed it to Ethan.

Ethan glanced at the photo, frowning. "Isn't she the one who auditioned for Creston Media's online campaign?"

"Yes," Jason confirmed. "She came in for a screen test last time."

Ethan scoffed, an amused sound escaping him.

"Let's cancel that campaign. She's not a good fit for us."

Jason was taken aback but nodded in agreement. "Understood."

As he left the room, Jason couldn't help but reflect on the day. He had always considered Chairman Harrison to be the type of boss who was strictly rational, the kind of person who would never let personal feelings interfere with business.

Today, he realized he'd been very wrong.

And not just a little wrong—completely wrong.

"Keep an eye on the feedback when the campaign launches," Ethan instructed, still not entirely at ease. "Monitor the responses from the TV networks and online platforms closely."

"Understood."

Two weeks later, the campaign was released alongside the launch of the public service announcement. As Alisa's first non-commercial, socially conscious project, the campaign garnered significant attention. Most of the online reviews were positive.

Just as Creston Media and the studio were preparing to ride the wave of this success, a news story suddenly went viral, pushing them into the spotlight for all the wrong reasons:

**"Alisa Accused of Plagiarism"**

The explosive headline read: "Blatant Copying? A Disgrace to the Photography World!"

The article accused Emily's new ocean conservation campaign of plagiarizing a photograph from an international magazine published over a decade ago.

The accuser provided a side-by-side comparison of the two images, helpfully highlighting the similarities in red circles: the model's pose, the color of the dress, the lighting, the composition.

The article concluded with righteous indignation:

"How can a so-called 'original' photographer not feel ashamed? To steal someone else's work, change the background, and tweak the hairstyle—does that make it your own creation? And to make a name for yourself by plagiarizing, deceiving the public, and disrespecting the original artist—isn't that a disgrace to the entire photography community? And yet, this photographer continues to receive praise and popularity. Isn't this setting a terrible example for the entire industry?"

Emily was stunned when she saw the article.

She had never seen the magazine photo from years ago and had no idea how her work could resemble it so closely.

To be honest, there were some similarities. But! Underwater photography was different from other types of photography—there were only so many options available. A model wearing a light-colored dress, striking a graceful pose—this was a common approach.

Add to that the reflective water and atmospheric effects, and it wasn't surprising if the end result looked similar.

But unfortunately, the magazine's composition did resemble her poster to some degree: the vast expanse of blue, the model positioned toward the lower middle of the frame.

At first glance, it was easy to see the resemblance. With Emily's poster coming out years later, it didn't take long for her to be branded with the ugly label of "plagiarism."

Emily scoured industry image databases and even looked at international sources, hoping to find more information about the background of that magazine photo. But she found nothing—just more articles accusing her of plagiarism.

The maliciously worded article spread quickly, even faster than her high-profile fling with a top-tier celebrity. In no time, Emily found herself at the top of the headlines, dominating the trending searches.