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He eyed me, and I was positive he could read my thoughts. Fuck, if I had to start wearing a tin foil hat, I was going to be pissed. Not a good look at a fashion show.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Neighbors saw a blonde woman going into Lisa's apartment a few days before. Does that remind you of anyone?" My wig. They had mistaken me for Sarah. That was the best thing I'd heard all week.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Sarah," I whispered. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Sarah said Lisa was upset she couldn't crash at Sarah's beach house for Labor Day." It came out in a rush. "Shit, Lisa's dead. That's so messed up."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"We'll be talking to Ms. Taft as well. She just hasn't called us back."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I helpfully gave him her fashion show schedule. What are BFFs for? Sarah couldn't be mad. I had to help the detective. It'd be weird if I didn't. Still, I silently prayed to the fashion gods that she'd laugh this off. I also crossed my fingers and hoped he pulled her out of Marc Jacobs. In front of everyone. That would be amazing.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

News of Lisa's death spread like wildfire at the shows. I couldn't help myself. I told everyone and anyone next to me, even if I didn't know them. Gossip was a staple at shows, and for once, I had something juicy no one else knew yet.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Um, you heard about Lisa Blitz, from Cartel? She's dead! The police are asking about her. They want to talk to Sarah Taft. Crazy, right?" And then I'd sit back as a very stylish game of telephone was played. By the end of the day, Sarah was rumored to have killed Lisa in a pre–Fashion Week meltdown. I snorted when I heard the latest tale. Sarah was the talk of shows, which was impressive even for her. (She could get a few murmurs about her outfits, but this was something else. All eyes followed her more than usual.) She should thank me. Lisa never got her this kind of attention.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah posted a selfie of herself crying, mascara running down her face. It was touching. On the bright side, she now had an opening for a BFF. This was my big break. I was going to console her. We could mourn Lisa together, talk about her ridiculous veils, and cry. And then I'd hug her, and she'd realize that I was her one true friend in this world. Who said the fashion world was heartless?

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah wasn't dragged out of a show. Bummer, I know. The spectacle would have made my day. Instead, she willingly went to talk to the detective before her morning appearances the next day.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"I'm taking the car so find your own way around," she said coldly. She hadn't spoken to me in a full day. Almost twenty-four hours of silence. I was miserable. I wanted to go with her, to hold her hand. To tell her it would all be okay. That Zhazha meant nothing to me. I wanted to know what she told the detective, whether she said I was a fake. If he knew, then they'd all know. It'd get in the papers or something. My panic was overwhelming. I took off a brooch I was wearing and stabbed my thighs repeatedly. Relief.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah reappeared at the office a couple hours later, dressed in her best funeral attire. Head-to-toe darkness. Celia caught her and screamed. Actually screamed. This was not the look she wanted for Sarah at Fashion Week.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"You cannot wear all black to the shows. You are not Anya! What will it say about us?" she yelled.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Um, my bestie died. I can't even."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

My heart hurt. _I_ was her bestie. Not Lisa. When would Sarah realize that?

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"We need to present a united front after Mulberry. We can't look morbid. So you can and will _even_. I'm having some new clothes called in, and you will wear them. Or else."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah just stared. Maybe she _was_ mourning? I patted her hand later in the car. She pulled it away. I had no idea how to comfort her, but I had to try. Why was she so upset? When Meredith died, I got over it. Now it was Sarah's turn.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Lisa would be really touched by this, but even she wouldn't want you to give up your sense of style. She'd totally make fun of you for it." She would.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"What would you know, Anya? She hated you. So does Jack. Everyone hates you. Just look at you. You're so not a _La Vie_ girl." The comment stung. She had learned from Celia. "You know what everyone is saying about you, right? That you totally faked your way here. Lisa told everyone what her little detective found."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

It was a lie. It had to be a lie. I'd checked all of Lisa's emails and scoured her apartment. He hadn't found much. Still, I wanted to throw up. Sarah was lashing out, Dr. M would say. Don't take it personally. (Whatever, everything was personal.)

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Okay, then dress like an idiot and lose your job." _Fuck you too_. Tough love. I couldn't win with her.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I ignored her sniffling for the rest of the day. How could she be this sad over someone who wore veils? If she wanted me as her one and only BFF, she had to realize I was awesome and that no one else mattered. If I could get over the whole betraying me thing, she could too. (I hadn't, but whatever.) Dr. M told me I needed to value myself more. Besides, Sarah had to get it together. This was life; shit happens. You either dealt with it and went back to wearing Gucci, or you curled up in a ball and waited to die. Only the strong survived.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I waited for it. For that moment when Sarah would want me to comfort her. To tell her she would be okay, that Lisa's death was ultimately good for all of us. But it didn't happen. I didn't even get to pet her hair.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Instead, she turned to Jack. Not me.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I couldn't blame her; he was in the trinity. Or what was left of it. Since he only covered menswear, he wasn't attending shows, but he rode in the car with us, forcing me to sit in the front passenger seat. He was her moral support. I needed a friend like that. I needed someone who would support me.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I heard them whispering behind me.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"I can't stand her. She's a fraud."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Oh, come on. You know Lisa was a jealous bitch."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Ugh, Jack, if you only knew." What did that mean? "She's the worst. God, look at her clothes," she snickered.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I glanced down at my outfit. I was wearing a denim jacket with Gucci splashed all over it. With a little black dress of course. What was wrong with my look? _Don't react, Anya_.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"I do know. I told you. But do you really think she did it? I mean, look at her." I felt eyes on the back of my head. Don't turn around. I pretended to be busy on my phone. I was texting Dr. M. _Help me! NYFW is a disaster!_ He didn't reply. It felt like the world was against me today.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"You're right. I'm just really sad about Lisa."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Jack made comforting cooing noises at Sarah. I should have been doing that.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"When's the funeral?" she asked. I wanted to pipe up, tell her I put it on her calendar for her. But didn't. All I could hear was Sarah saying I was the worst.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Uh, while you're in Europe. But there's going to be a memorial after, don't worry." Sarah strangled out a sob. I wanted to turn around. I wanted to join in. But I wasn't welcome.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Worse than that, she was blaming me for Lisa's death. Me? As if. She should be blaming Lisa. No, she should be thanking me—Lisa wore veils. I couldn't believe Sarah was acting like this.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

It couldn't go on. I had to distract her from it. How do you make someone forget her so-called friend was murdered? _You know how. You have to get her to focus on her favorite person: herself_. I like to call these lightbulb moments because, hello? Flash of genius.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

After all, Sarah was still seething over Zhazha. The blogger was everywhere. At every show, front row. And more incredibly, she wore a new outfit to every appearance. Zhazha went from Saint Laurent to Balenciaga to Gucci in a flash. I had no idea where she changed, but in one hour, I saw her wearing two very different outfits.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

The street-style photogs grew in number exponentially each season. They had started with one or two, and now an entire horde of them clogged the sidewalks outside each venue. And yet not one was paying attention to Sarah, despite her best efforts. Not when Zhazha promised them new looks at every show.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"God I hate that Russian bitch," Sarah muttered as we exited the car. Not to me, to Jack. I didn't exist in Sarah's world right now. I was, at best, her employee. I had to change that. I had to show Sarah how much she really did care for me. Her love for me was there, deep down. Like, buried in a hole, covered in cement deep down. She and I were kismet, meant to be.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Dr. M would tell me I had an insane need for approval. Um, duh? My entire life was about getting teachers and doctors to sign off on me. To say I was doing well, following the rules. You don't just turn that off once you're in the real world.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

So Sarah would see how perfect I was, how well I did actually fit into her life. I'd make her see. I straightened my shoulders and very deliberately walked over to Zhazha. The blogger would be my friend, I was sure of it. At least until Sarah came around. We even chatted like old pals. I caught Sarah glaring. We had four shows that day with Zhazha. By the third show, Z and I had exchanged contact info and a promise to do drinks with Dalia, who was my new seatmate. (Sarah refused to sit with me as long as I was "buddying up with that Russian whore.") Sarah wouldn't even look at me. Was she telling everyone I was a fake? That I didn't belong there? Each second she ignored me sent me deeper into panic mode. If she didn't start paying attention to me, loving me soon, I was going to lose it. And that's a major _don't_ during Fashion Week.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Her accessories are amazing," Dalia said. She meant Zhazha, not Sarah. And she was right. Dalia glanced at my own bag, a vintage Dior saddlebag. "Oh, chic." Approval. It wasn't from Sarah, but I'd take it. I beamed. I had winged my eyeliner just like Dalia did. I wonder if she noticed.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

By the final show, Sarah had had enough. I watched with fascination as she shoved her way to the center of the photographer throng. We were just outside the Cedar Lake stage, with cobblestones everywhere. Not my favorite place to get to, but the catwalk inside was fabulous.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Out of my way!" Sarah bellowed before breaking out five different poses. She was so engrossed in the flashes going off that she didn't notice Zhazha walking her way. Blinding light, photographers yelling. The buzzing sound was roaring in my head. _You're a phony, Anya. A fraud_. _Do it now. She'll expose you. This will make her need you_. _She'll finally love you_. I tried to shut out the intrusive thoughts—that's what Dr. M called them—but it was too late. _Look at her outfits_ , I heard Sarah sneer. Her taunting laughter echoed in my head. I had to do it. I had to shut the noise out, to refocus. To show Sarah how much she needed me.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah was already flying through the air.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

People around us gasped.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah screamed. I froze. What had I done?

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Zhazha claimed innocence. It was maybe her giant bag that had done it—was Sarah okay? She cooed her concern, trying to help my boss up. It wasn't Zhazha's fault. No one noticed me. They never did. That's the good part of wearing all black. I blended in with everyone. Who looks at the ugly chicken when peacocks are around?

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

My blog that night included shots of a resplendent Zhazha in a fur cape and, next to it, a shot of Sarah sprawled on the stone steps. She'd wanted her photo to appear on the site more often, didn't she? Her wish was my command.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I did feel a teensy bit bad when I saw Sarah wearing a cast and sling later. But it wasn't my fault. Intrusive thoughts weren't real; they couldn't hurt anyone. Except maybe mine were taking over? The whole scene had been like an out-of-body experience. I saw myself push her, and I couldn't stop it. I made a note to talk to Dr. M about it. BFFs don't trash each other's outfits like that. I had to do it. I had to make Sarah refocus, from dead Lisa to me.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Back at the office, Celia was loving Zhazha, despite the thrashing Sarah took (or because of it; Greg was tripping over himself to take care of our little wounded dove, and it was pissing Celia off).

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"She's wearing fur in this weather. That is so damn chic," she said approvingly. "Anya, get her in here, ASAP."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Of course. Though I did see Annie from _Mince_ taking her away in a car. And it didn't help that Sarah cursed her out. I had to do a lot of apologizing."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Dammit. Should we send her flowers?" Celia asked.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I smiled. "Better. Send her caviar."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Brilliant." It looked like I had just made friends with _La Vie_ 's newest star.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Zhazha was my new ally. And she'd managed (without trying) to make Sarah look like a fool, which made Sarah need me even more. Sarah was practically useless with her broken arm.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I sent a couple ounces of Petrossian to Zhazha's rooms at the Gramercy Park Hotel, along with several bottles of champagne and a note that said, _We adore you. Let's talk more? xx Anya._ If I didn't already hate myself and everyone else, I'd probably vomit over the "xx," but that was how it was done. At least it wasn't as bad as _Kisses!_ or _Love you!_ or _Oh my gosh, you're amaaaaaaaazing!_

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"What are you doing? Are you bleeding again?" Sarah screeched, interrupting me. She winced slightly as she shifted her arm. She looked like a bird, standing there in front of me. Her blazer was draped over both shoulders. We were at the office before the day's shows started. She was talking to me again. See? It had worked. A broken bone was the perfect distraction from grief.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"What? Oh, yeah, my hand slipped," I muttered.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Well, get a Band-Aid, you freak. Why do you always cut yourself?"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"How's the arm, Sarah? Still broken?"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Ugh, yes. That stupid commie bitch—"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Is getting a spread in the magazine." I grinned. Zhazha was new, hot, and so very in.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

" _No!_ She can't be!"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"She's the new _it_ girl. Dalia's working on her accessories as we speak."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Sarah's face reddened as she processed the news. For a moment, I thought she was actually going to cry. Good. Let her. I felt a twinge of joy at the thought. You always hurt the ones you love the most.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"I'm going to tell Greg."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"You do that, but it won't help."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Yes it will! He'll stop it!"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Zhazha will lure in new advertisers and younger readers. So good luck."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I enjoyed watching her face as she realized I was right. The blogger was going to be huge, and _La Vie_ needed in on her momentum. Sarah pouted. I should have hugged her, told her how cute she was. But I had had enough rejection from her this week.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Ugh, just get a Band-Aid, would you?"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I put my finger in my mouth.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"You are so gross, Anya."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I bared my blood-covered teeth at her and winked before heading out to my next show. She flinched. She hadn't said a word about missing Lisa.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I started my Zhazha mood board that night.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I needed total silence. Why I thought I'd find that in New York City, I'll never know. But those rare moments when the roar of the traffic sounds like waves at the beach, the jackhammering has ceased, and your neighbors have stopped fucking too loudly are the closest to bliss any of us will ever get.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

White-noise machines. Calming music playing. Deep breaths and ohhmmming until you are too zen to care that a toddler is jumping up and down one floor up. None of that worked for me. Each and every sound was an assault on my senses.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

To properly make a mood board, to have it magically come alive, you needed quiet. Not really come alive. That's crazy. But to bloom in your head and heart. To take over, to channel your ardent wishes, you needed to focus. How could I focus when my neighbors kept screaming? (She was obviously faking it.) I had to shut out everything screaming inside my head. Lisa's taunts. That pitying look Mulberry gave me. Diana's stupid comments. And the detective who kept leaving me voice mails.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I shook my head. _Not now. Focus on Zhazha_.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

My Russian friend (that word again, _friend_ ) was so easy to be inspired by. Photos of her filled slideshows on every fashion site. She was the new girl to watch, the Russian czarina pouting just so at the camera in head-to-toe red. A shot of her carrying a bag that was just on the runway and not available to purchase yet. (God, that was hot.) And then her holding a bottle of vodka in her hand for a not-so-subtle moment of sponsorship.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

She was perfect.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

But she wasn't my BFF.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Look, just because had a small tiff didn't mean Sarah and I had broken up. She needed space to grieve, and while in that dark hole, she'd finally see the light. The Anya light. Sarah would realize I was the only way forward. That what happened in the past—in _my_ past—didn't matter.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Ever since her promotion, Sarah had been ordering me around, and Fashion Week made her extrabossy. I'd even gotten her lunch for her, carrying it like a pathetic assistant while she whimpered about her arm. I didn't even spit in it. I wanted to. (Imagine watching her eat something that came from inside me. Oh, heaven.) _Anya, get this. Write that. O-M-G, fix your hair_. I love-hated every second of it.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I set the two boards together. Zhazha versus Sarah. Who did I want more? Did I really have to choose? Couldn't I have it all?

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I can usually tell when it's time to move on from BFF-dom. You just don't care about the person anymore. You feel nothing. They're an annoyance. My first BFF, Meredith, was like that. I couldn't wait to be rid of her. That's the thing with kids. It's so easy to move from group to group. But even then, the idea of Meredith having a bestie after me really made my stomach hurt. That wasn't possible. I was the ultimate. I was everything.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I didn't want to get rid of Sarah. She was my everything. Dr. M said I was merely infatuated and that this would pass. Eye roll. Sarah and I were destined to be BFFs. But, she needed to step up if we were going to make it, or she'd end up like Meredith. Why Mer had to play with matches like that I'll never know. Doesn't mean I tried to stop her. No, I watched her burn.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Everyone whispered about me back then, like they were now about Zhazha. Maybe she and I were soul sisters? I drew a big heart on Zhazha's board in red glitter. It was so her. On Sarah's, I drew a mustache on her photos in black. We were going to have to talk this through. Until then, I had a new distraction: Zhazha. I took my gloves off and threw them in the trash. Why make a mood board if you're going to smudge it with fingerprints?

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Finally, the longest week ever was over. The team was headed to Europe—without me. Celia, Sarah, Dalia, and Evie were hitting London, Milan, and Paris. The gloating was insufferable. Despite missing Lisa's funeral, Sarah was happy again. Europe did that to people. She was going to be attending the Burberry, Gucci, and Valentino shows, and I wasn't. I tried to not let the idea of three weeks without her get to me. This would be good for us. Sarah had to learn to miss me. Absence made the heart grow fonder and all that shit.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"I can't wait to go to Selfridges! And Harvey Nichols! And . . ." Sarah droned on for a while. "Anya! Are you listening?"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Not really."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Don't you want to know where we're going to go? I mean, while you're stuck here?"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

I didn't bother replying. I couldn't go to Europe even if I wanted. And I didn't want to go. Really, I didn't. I swear.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Fine, I was seething with envy. But all that schmoozing was too exhausting to maintain. The European shows were on top of one another: London bled into Milan, which bled into Paris. I didn't know how Sarah did it. Maybe she was better at this world. This life. But no, I didn't want to go to Europe.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

Besides, there was that issue with my passport. Dr. M handled it all for me. The name change, the new identity. He swore the papers were filed. But sometimes I ran into issues. Better to just avoid the whole mess. London and Paris were on my "one day" mood boards.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"I mean, Riccardo Tisci is just so dreamy! Aren't you so jelly?" Sarah asked excitedly.

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Anya! Admit it!"

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar

"Sarah, one of us needs to hold down the fort. Have a lovely time."

#FashionVictim - Amina Akhtar