Chapter 6: The interview
1060 Words
The next morning, I woke up before my alarm.
For a few seconds, I stared at the ceiling, confused about why my heart felt restless so early. Then I remembered.
The poster.
My phone layed beside me, the poster still open on the screen like proof that yesterday hadn’t been imagined. I sat up slowly.
Today could change something, even if it was small.After a quick shower, I stood in front of my tiny mirror, changing outfits three times before settling on a simple sweater and jeans. Nothing fancy. Nothing noticeable. Just… decent enough not to be rejected immediately.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “You just need a job, not a miracle.”The words sounded brave, but my stomach disagreed.
The library stood quietly between two old buildings near campus. I almost missed it the first time because it didn’t look like a workplace, more like a peaceful hiding place.
Large glass windows reflected the morning light. Inside, shelves stretched endlessly, filled with books of every color. The place felt calm before I even stepped in.
I pushed the door open.A small bell chimed above me.
The scent hit instantly. paper, wood, and something faintly minty.For some reason, it felt familiar.
“Hello?” I called softly.No answer.
I walked deeper inside, my footsteps echoing lightly against the floor. Sunlight slipped through tall windows, landing across reading tables.
Then I noticed him.
A man stood on a small ladder near one of the shelves, arranging books carefully. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. Simple black shirt. Focused expression.
He looked… normal.
Not like an owner.
Not like someone important.
Just someone working.
“Excuse me,” I said politely. “I’m here for the librarian interview.”He glanced down at me.
Calm blue eyes.
Recognition flickered across his face for a brief second , so fast I thought I imagined it.
“You’re early,” he said.His voice was steady, familiar in a way I couldn’t explain.
“Is that bad?” I asked.One corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Depends. Are you always this nervous?” he raised an eyebrow
“I’m not nervous,” I said quickly.His gaze dropped to my hands.
“You’re twisting your bag strap.”I froze.
Slowly, I released it.
Traitor hands.
He stepped down from the ladder smoothly.
“So,” he said, crossing his arms lightly, "Why do you want this job?”The question caught me off guard.
I had prepared answers, professional ones but suddenly they disappeared.
Hehehe, you think it's fun eh?
“I need money,” I admitted. The honesty slipped out before I could stop it.
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“At least you’re honest.”
“I could lie if you prefer,” I muttered. A quiet chuckle escaped him.Silence settled between us, not uncomfortable, just still.
“Sit”. He gestured toward a chair.I obeyed.
He sat across from me, relaxed, like this wasn’t an interview at all.
“Do you like books?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“The ones that let you disappear for a while.”His gaze lingered on me a second longer than necessary.
“Escape reader,” he murmured.I shrugged.
“Reality is overrated sometimes.”Another small smile appeared, softer this time.
“Have you worked before?”
“Small things. Nothing official. Just handmade things or something like that”.
“Can you organize shelves, help students, manage quiet chaos?”
I blinked. “Quiet chaos?”He nodded toward the empty tables.
“Students before exams.”
“Oh.” I nodded seriously. “Yes. I can survive that.”
He leaned back slightly, studying me.
The silence stretched long enough to make me nervous again.
Did I fail already?
“You're hired.” .Finally, he spoke
I stared at him.
“What?”
“You can start tomorrow afternoon.”
My brain struggled to catch up.
“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t the owner decide that?”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes calm.
“He already did.”I frowned.
“I thought you were just working here.”
“I am.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
A faint amusement crossed his face.
“I’m Mr. Brown.”
The words landed slowly.
Mr. Brown.
The name echoed in my head.
The shop. Kira. The restaurant.
And then,
“Oh,” I whispered.
Heat rushed to my face as realization crashed into me.
“You…”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“ It is very painful how your little mind forgets me,Dot.” he added faking heart ache or maybe it was really
“ But next time I promise, you won't forget” he smirked.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he reached behind the desk and picked something up.
My breath caught.My crossbody bag.
“You left this at the park,” he said calmly, placing it on the table between us. My eyes widened.
“You found it?”
“You looked like you needed it back.”
I grabbed it quickly, checking inside.
Everything was there.
Even the few crumpled bills.
Relief hit so hard my shoulders dropped instantly.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I thought… I thought I lost everything.”
He watched me carefully.
“You looked like the world ended that day.”Embarrassment warmed my cheeks.
“You saw me?”
“Hard not to,” he replied. “You were arguing with God.” I covered my face briefly.
“I’m never going back to that park again.”A soft laugh escaped him , low and genuine.
For the first time, the tension inside my chest eased.
“Tomorrow,” he said gently. “Three o’clock.”I nodded, standing up.As I reached the door, I paused.
“Mr. Brown?”
“Yes?”
"Thank you. For the job. And the bag.”His expression softened almost imperceptibly.
“You’re welcome, Lina.”
The way he said my name felt strangely careful.
I stepped outside, the bell chiming behind me.
The afternoon air felt lighter somehow.
For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t walking home defeated.
I had a job.
And for reasons I didn’t understand yet.
Mr. Brown didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.
- Writer
