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There was fashionably late, and then there was just late: Renee was fairly certain she'd fallen into the latter category, but there still seemed to be a flow of people entering the ballroom for the wedding, of which she was grateful. Practicing the ability to walk in her heels had taken more time than she'd anticipated. After all, with her grace (or rather, the lack thereof), there was a reason she designed clothes, not model them. She wore a strapless blaqck and red studded corset paired with a layered rust-colored skirt, secretly using her talents to alter the top so she could manage to breathe. Black seemed odd to wear at a wedding, but that wasn't much of a disaster she decided as she noticed some of the other guests' attire.

Between the shooting and Chad/Angelica fiasco, she'd mainly laid low for the time being, slaving away at her work until she was certain that it would speak for herself and destroy whatever trash the actress might throw Renee's way. It hadn't given her much for a social life, however, and that was painfully obvious to the young fashion designer as she was swept up in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Not a one stood out to her, though she recognized some as other Walk of Fame clients. Still, that was all, and she felt that lonely stab again, promising to change that particular fact. After all, part of fame was who you knew, and if you didn't know anyone, that made you a a nobody.

First things first, though. In order to cross into the threshold, she had to greet the newlyweds. She put on a small, shy smile for their sake as she approached them, not far behind a boy about her own age.

It wasn't long before a young woman in an exotic peacock inspired gown came up to Renee, who found both the girl and dress stunning. She was also certain she'd heard of her before...

"Thank you," she said with a brighter smile. "I'm Renee Cardot, and I must admit, I've got nothing on you tonight." A small laugh followed the compliment, as though Renee truly believed what she'd just said. "You've got to tell me where you found something so wonderful." Well, it wasn't quite shop talk, and it couldn't hurt. Besides, the girl seemed intruiged with fashion, herself.

So that was where Renee recognized her! She felt a little foolish about it, really, since she was supposed to keep up witht he fashion industry. Maybe hiding from the media for a while hadn't been such a good idea, after all. Oh well, she couldn't change the past.

"I remember that photo shoot," she said as she took a flute of champaign from a waiter's offered tray. Her shyness was beginning to slip away as she chatted, possibly due to the current topic. But Ana seemed really nice, too. "It was wonderful, and so unique! She always does a great job."

Ah, poking at her dream now, though Renee didn't mind. "Actually, I'm a fashion dsigner, myself, so you could say a bit of both. I've actually got a charity run coming up pretty soon." She took a sip of of champaigne. "Granted, I'm nowhere near as good as Miss Winter, but I like to think I'll get somewhere." She paused a mintue, a slight tinge of pink coloring her cheeks.

"I could get you a ticket, if you like. I'd love an opinion from someone who works in the fashion line. After all, the models are the ones who have to deal with us fussy designers. Feels like everything has to be just so, you know?"

Renee's face lit up like a true nobody's at Ana's offer, though she tried to hide her embarassment as she relized this.

"Really? That would be wonderful," she agreed as she watched the girl jot her number down on the napkin. Maybe she couldn't fit her in this show, but it was definitely a prospect worth thinking over. "If you decide you like what you see, I'll be sure to call."

She tilted her head to the side in momentary thought, then nodded her agreement. "Sure, I have a few to spare; the more the merrier. Any idea how many would be coming?" Any connections would be helpful, one way or another. Renee just hoped they would help, rather than hurt her reputation.

Renee took the napkin from Ana just as the sirens staerted wailing. Her focus turned toward the door like everyone else's seemed to as the doors were kicked down and SWAT teams entered the room. Her hands flew up defensively as several people ran into her to get out of the way, spilling the rest of her drink down the front of her dress (which she'd be sure to rant about later) and hoping she wouldn't topple over Ana or send the model to the floor.

"What the...?" There was total chaos milling about her, but the teams seemed interested in only one person - Stan Patel. Who was now in handcuffs and screeching like a madman about killing everyone. Renee felt the blood drain from her face as her hands begin shaking. Surely not...but that left a lot of unanswered questions.

"Why is it, every time I see you, something goes awry?" she asked Ana in a half daze.

Silently cursing her ill luck, Renee tried to help this strange young man fix her dress. It was quite possible that he was the one to cause the problem in the first place, and manybe he knew it, so he was helping, but Renee was more in the mood to blame it on the SWATs.

"it's oaky," she said, eventually giving up. She was hindering more than helping, anyway. "It takes a special cleaner to get stains out of this fabric. I'll just have to wait until I get home." She eyed the SWTA team at the door. "If we ever get to leave..." She noticed the scar on his shoulder, but chose not to say anything.

Killed us all...: such a promising thought. What had cause Stan to fliip out like that, anyway. "You okay?" Maybe it was the scar, after all, or the crowd bumping each other. Maybe she meant the shock that was evident in the room. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Brodi looked back over to Renee, snapping out of his daze and quickly looked back around the room. He couldn't see Riley anywhere. Maybe she already made it out of the room. He quickly grabbed Renee's hand, "I'm fine, now lets get out of here before something bad happens." He said as he ran out the doors with the crowd, taking Renee with him.