Black Label [EN]: Chapter 181

181. Janel’s Heaven (3)

As the start of the show neared, all the lights in the banquet hall dimmed.

Those guarding the seats kept their voices down, engaging in hushed conversations.

“It seems the show is about to start, but no one has seen Karl Lagerfeld. Doesn’t this practically confirm the rumors of discord between the Janel Group and Karl?”

At the words of the female reporter from a famous fashion magazine, those around her nodded in agreement.

Some were even using their smartphone messaging functions to draft and send article content to their respective magazines.

On the other hand, some viewed it from a different perspective, mostly those who trusted in the ‘power of time.’

How many decades had Karl Lagerfeld and the Janel Group been closely associated?

Their argument was that it was impossible to believe that a partnership of such long standing, spanning a generation, would dissolve over a trivial issue like the appointment of a sub-director.

“It’s true that Karl often personally greeted guests and thanked them just before Janel’s show started, but there were also many times when he didn’t, right? Today’s show is probably just him remaining out of sight for a special production.”

“Yes, that’s right. Especially for shows presented on special stages rather than during Paris Fashion Week, such instances were particularly frequent. Those who have recklessly thrown out speculative articles or columns will be caught by Karl and subjected to his lengthy rants.”

Soon, Geraldine Saglio, the editor of ‘Paris Pouge’ [likely a play on ‘Paris Vogue’], and Jae-seung’s close friend, sitting in her seat in the hall, asked her sub-editor, Melanie, who accompanied her, in a low voice.

“Melanie, what do you think?”

“Pardon?”

“About the rumors of discord between the Janel Group and Karl Lagerfeld.”

After a moment’s pause, “Hmm, well…?” Melanie tilted her head slightly and continued.

“Won’t we know once the show is over?”

“That was a very good answer.”

Geraldine replied gently, nodding a few times and continuing.

“Anyway, it’s a question that will be easily resolved in just an hour or two, and just a piece of gossip that will disappear. Even if we act rashly, we can’t gain much.”

As soon as Geraldine finished speaking, Melanie replied, “Thank you.”

Perhaps it was because she had received praise from her superior, who was usually quite stingy with compliments, but she seemed quite pleased.

On the other hand, Geraldine couldn’t seem to hide her serious expression. What should I say? Was it because she kept having strange premonitions?

‘First of all, the rumors circulating about Karl and the Janel Group are definitely not true…’

Although she didn’t have a close friendship with Karl Lagerfeld himself, she could at least claim to have had quite a few conversations with him.

She had conducted at least a dozen exclusive interviews with him.

Moreover?

Even before entering the fashion industry, her graduation thesis was based on Karl Lagerfeld’s biography.

Also, the ‘*Pouge Challenge*’ [likely a portfolio-style column submitted with a resume when joining the company] that she submitted to join Paris Pouge was also related to Karl Lagerfeld’s designs.

She prided herself on knowing Karl Lagerfeld well, although not as much as his closest aides. That’s why she kept seeing strange inconsistencies.

‘Karl hasn’t shown himself below the surface for a day or two before the show. Why on earth…?’

Wasn’t Karl a designer with a particularly outgoing personality?

Before the show started, wasn’t he someone who greatly enjoyed showing off his confidence in his designs that had not yet been revealed through numerous interviews?

Karl Lagerfeld hasn’t properly shown his face this season.

Why on earth?

Could there be more unavoidable and complex special reasons hidden? Just as Geraldine was deep in thought.

Clack-!

The long-pin spotlights illuminating the main stage at the very front of the hall came on, and a host in a neat tuxedo appeared.

The person in charge of hosting this show was none other than ‘Post Malo’ [likely a play on Post Malone].

He was a famous fashionista who often appeared as a judge or panelist/host on model or designer audition programs often broadcast on overseas channels.

He smiled and brought the microphone close to his mouth and began to speak.

-First of all, I would like to sincerely thank the distinguished guests who are here to witness a page in Janel’s history.

As he spoke, his voice flowed from the speakers throughout the hall.

He glanced at the cue card in his hand and immediately continued.

-First of all, I will skip my introduction. If you are prestigious enough to be invited to Janel’s show, you will know my name.

Thanks to the playful joke, giggling sounds rippled through the audience.

But that was only for a moment.

As soon as the host Post Malo raised his palm as if to stop them, the hall became as quiet as a mouse.

-The show that will start soon is by Janel, a premium brand that anyone living in any country in the world knows. But those who planned and organized the performance said this: The Janel 2014 F/W [Fall/Winter] season show ‘Janel Heaven’ will be remembered as a more dreamy and intense show than any other show Janel has ever presented.

Post Malo, who finished speaking, slowly scanned the audience and added again.

-Welcome to Janel Heaven.

The moment he finished speaking, exclamations of “Wow…” began to leak out from everywhere. Simultaneously, music with a tremendously magnificent feeling began to play, and the lighting completely changed.

The long pin lights that were shining on Post Malo were completely dimmed, and the LED lights installed at the feet of the statues placed in front of the stairs where he was standing began to emit intense light from the bottom up.

“It’s beautiful, as expected.”

Melanie, who spoke quietly, began to look at the statues receiving the light, unable to hide her surprise.

From Coco Janel and Karl Lagerfeld to the statue of a giant hand.

Unlike when she saw it before all the lights were dimmed, it was beyond simple beauty and even felt sublime and sacred.

At that time.

-Then, I hope you enjoy the show.

Once again, the voice of the host Post Malo echoed loudly in the hall.

After his voice disappeared, the background music that was playing gently began to ‘fade-in’.

Soon, Britain, who was sitting in his seat, tapped Wisdom Khalifa’s arm next to him and said excitedly.

“Damn it! It’s our music!”

The song recorded on the first track of Wisdom Khalifa and Britain’s collaboration album.

It was ‘Heaven’.

Soon, Wisdom Khalifa frowned slightly and replied in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Do you think I’m Beethoven? My ears are fine! Damn it, my arm is numb. If it interferes with my work, I’m going to sue you, so look into a lawyer.”

“I guess I couldn’t control my strength because I was so excited. But what do you mean by suing? Isn’t that too harsh? Can’t you understand this much? The beat I produced is being used in Janel’s show! How can I not be excited…”

Just as Britain was about to continue speaking, Wisdom Khalifa put his index finger to his lips and continued in a gentle tone.

“Shh. Partner, don’t make a fuss over just this. Once the album is officially released, you’ll see your name at the top of the Billboard charts for at least a few weeks.”

“Well? I hope that’s the case.”

“I’m someone who can make what I say a reality, and I only work with people who show that ability. I saw the future when I heard your sample beat—a future where our song completely dominates the Billboard charts.”

Just as Britain was embarrassed and didn’t know what to do, Wisdom Khalifa spoke again.

“Just in case you don’t know, I don’t like talking nonsense. Even in a ‘*high*’ [slang referring to the state of being at the peak of feeling due to drugs including marijuana] state, I only say things I can take responsibility for.”

By the time the two people’s conversation was roughly over, the intro of the song that was playing seemed to have ended, and the first verse began.

-Everything I do, everything is irreplaceable. I don’t know the time even if I look at the clock. Because there are too many diamonds embedded in the clock.

-My hobby is collecting countless bottles, but it’s actually hard to drink. My cash flow is completely crazy, and I’ve come to represent my town.

Was it because of the typical lyrics of a black rapper from a slum boasting about ‘self-made success’?

Most of the audience frowned slightly, as if they were dissatisfied with the song selection.

However, their lukewarm attitude changed quite a bit as the next verse began.

-Ah! Of course, it wasn’t like this from the beginning. So, I suddenly wondered. Is there really a ‘God’? Is he taking care of me?

-If my words can reach you and your words can reach me, there are a few things I want to ask.

-Friend, how is it over there? Does God really exist? Then what about heaven? Does it really exist?

As the atmosphere of the song itself changed, new lights began to illuminate the stairs where the host was standing.

-We used to fly in the sky together, right? It was hard then, but it was still pretty happy when I looked back, right?

-Actually, my life, which has become too positive, feels a little empty without you.

-I had a hard time today, how about you? It’s always the same here, so it’s always boring, how is it over there?

-Yeah, how is heaven?

-If you can hear my voice even a little, please look at the traces you left here.

At that moment, the first model appeared.

In the gently flowing accompaniment, if you listen carefully, you can sometimes hear the subtle sound of the model’s shoe heels.

Clack, clack.

The white female model with a high nose moved gracefully.

She wore a coat made of leather only from the shoulder line to the arm part, and the rest made of wool. She wore black shoes with Janel’s signature logo engraved on the instep and a necklace with a large pendant dangling.

The model’s body, with elegant curves inherent in every part, was the gathering place of the last works left by an old and experienced designer who sensed his end.

The audience’s eyes diligently followed her, tracking the design that was full of extremely challenging and free-spirited feelings.

By the time she reached the end of the runway stage, a critic unknowingly spoke.

“Huh… It would be much faster for a child born today to become a famous designer than for Karl Lagerfeld to lose his touch.”

Soon, the model who reached the end of the runway stage smiled leisurely and began to walk back the way she had come.

But what should I say? It felt like a sneer, not a smile.

It seemed like she was laughing, implying that they shouldn’t be surprised because the show had just begun.