Nominations

The fitting room was as spacious as the living room of a luxurious apartment, and the air still carried the scent of freshly laundered clothes and a hint of perfume. It had everything from velvet sofas and champagne buckets to enormous three-way mirrors.

Compared with the lavishness of other designer labels, this fitting room felt more approachable. Racks were filled with dresses for young women, in bright colors and lively styles.

Britney was like a mouse in a rice jar, excitedly running her fingers along row after row of clothes. The hangers scraped together with a crisp swishing sound.

She picked up a pink cropped top and a pair of low-rise jeans, then excitedly held them up in front of the mirror. "Irene! Look at these! Aren't they super hot? MTV viewers will love them!"

Irene set down her coffee and firmly refused. "Brit, you've practically been wearing pink tops all summer. Maybe you could try something else? And those jeans are great. Maybe you could buy them to wear to your next signing?"

"Okay, then." She picked out a white dress and asked Irene uncertainly, "What about this one? It looks elegant and ladylike, right?"

It was exactly the kind of sweet, marriageable look Irene had seen in her previous life—the standard outfit for a respectable young lady.

Her mouth twitched. "We're going to the MTV Awards, not a wedding. You don't need to look so ladylike."

"Oh! Right!" Britney realized, put the dress down, and searched for something brighter and more eye-catching. "I have to dress like a star! Everyone will be looking at us!" Her nerves and excitement were plain to see.

Irene stood and went to the rack. After searching along it for a moment, she stopped at a slip dress—a slightly glossy, pale purple one with a simple cut and a knee-length hem. It was sweet and youthful, yet hinted at the elegance of a young woman coming into her own.

"Try this on." Irene took the dress off the rack and handed it to Britney. "In the music video, you wore a school uniform, but your radiance outshone everything else. It's the same on awards night: you need to let Britney herself shine. You're nominated for Best New Artist, but you're also a pop superstar in the making."

Britney took the dress and ran her hand over its smooth fabric, a thoughtful look coming into her eyes. "You're right. I'm more than just a teen idol." She went into the fitting room.

When Britney came out again, the effect was just right.

The pale purple complemented her blonde hair and fair skin. The well-fitted dress made her look fresh and lovely, with a hint of the star she was about to become. Looking at herself in the mirror, she asked uncertainly, "Is it... too simple?"

"Not at all." Irene took a Chanel necklace from her bag and put it on Britney. Looking at their reflections—one a newly nominated singer, the other a nominated director—she saw the hope for the future written on both their faces. "How do we look? Like two girls about to conquer the world?"

Britney touched the necklace at her throat and watched it sparkle in the mirror. "Isn't this too expensive?"

"Not at all. It's a gift to celebrate your Best New Artist nomination."

Britney smiled, and some of her nerves faded. She took Irene's arm. "Oh my gosh, now I'm even more nervous. What if I don't win?"

"Hey." Irene turned to face her, her expression serious. "Listen, no matter whose name is in that envelope, you've already won. You made the whole world remember your name, Britney, with just one music video.

"And I'm an eighteen-year-old director who gets to stand beside you on the list of nominees, having beaten so many competitors. That's a miracle in itself."

Britney took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes bright with determination again. "All right! This is the one! What about you? What are you wearing?"

Irene pointed to a sharp black jumpsuit hanging over the sofa. "I'm a director. I have to look cool—and be comfortable enough to applaud you enthusiastically from the audience."

The two of them burst out laughing.

Soon, the day of the awards ceremony arrived.

The crowd outside Rockefeller Center roared. Hundreds of people had gathered, calling out the names of their favorite singers in a constant chorus. It was no different from the music festivals Irene had watched in her previous life. Fans really were a remarkable bunch.

Britney had already promised Edward Nelson she'd walk the red carpet with him, and Irene didn't feel comfortable letting the two of them go alone. The result was a peculiar sight: Irene and Britney walked hand in hand, while Edward kept half a meter away from them like a bodyguard. The three of them walked the red carpet together.

It wouldn't have seemed strange at a television or film awards ceremony, where people from the same production often walked together. But at the MTV Awards, performers usually came alone or with a male or female companion. The three of them left the fans and reporters baffled.

"Over here, Boo!"

"Britney, is he your boyfriend?"

"Irene, take a picture with Boo!"

Microphones packed together, and blinding camera flashes seemed determined to get right in their faces over the barriers. The noise was so loud that Irene couldn't make out what anyone was saying. It was far livelier than their premiere.

All three were newcomers, and it was their first time walking a red carpet. They were instantly swallowed up by the thunderous noise and camera flashes. It felt as if they were at the center of the world, every camera aimed at them and everyone calling their names. How could anyone not get carried away?

Every step they took felt unusually difficult. A voice inside them kept urging them to wait another minute and savor the feeling of being surrounded by the world.

For the umpteenth time, the flashes made Irene feel like she might cry, but she held it in. She squeezed Britney's hand and quietly pulled her toward the temporary interview area. If she stood there any longer, she'd get glaucoma.

"Hello, Irene. Hello, Britney."

After a long walk, they finally reached the interview area. An MTV reporter hurried over, then glanced at Edward Nelson in confusion. She clearly didn't know who he was.

Irene had no choice but to introduce him. "This is Mr. Edward Nelson, one of the leads in my film and a good friend of mine and Brit's."

Edward immediately flashed a charming smile and extended his right hand to the reporter. "Just call me Edward, beautiful."

What woman could look at Edward's face without feeling her heart flutter? The reporter promptly switched to a sweet smile. "Hello, Mr. Edward."

But her professionalism compelled her to focus on the two women.

"It's all three of your first times on the red carpet. Have you been swept up in the atmosphere?"

The microphone was between Irene and Britney, but Britney stepped back, handing Irene the floor.

Irene didn't hesitate and smoothly took up the conversation. "Seeing so many people here who like Britney and me is incredibly exciting. I hope everyone enjoys the show today."

The reporter seemed a little surprised at how polished an answer someone so young could give. "What are you both hoping for at today's awards?"

"Just being nominated is already a huge surprise. Compared with the more experienced people in our field, we still have a lot to learn."

The beautiful reporter was met with such a watertight answer that anyone who didn't know better might have thought she was interviewing a White House spokesperson.

Clearly, she wasn't going to get any news out of Irene, and Britney was tucked safely behind her. So she turned her attention to Edward, the tagalong at their side.

"Mr. Edward, do you have any wishes for the two ladies?"

Irene immediately realized it was a trap. If Edward was too generous with his well-wishes, the papers might portray Britney's friend as arrogant, which could end up hurting Britney.

But although Edward looked like a sweet, innocent fool and usually seemed carefree and unreliable, he didn't let them down when it mattered.

"I'm no witch. My wishes won't bring them luck. And if I wish them bad luck by accident, they'll beat me up afterward. The best thing I can do right now is be a quiet, handsome man."

The reporter's hand holding the microphone paused. The youngest trio on the red carpet had turned out to be the most unpredictable interviewees. These three young people were no pushovers.

The interview didn't last long. After a few simple questions, the three of them turned and headed into the venue, where an usher showed them to their seats.