A New Beginning
1297 Words
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*Chapter 1*
*A New Beginning*
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Wren! Wake up already!”
Lyra’s voice carried through the thin walls of the apartment, bright and impatient. There was no answer. She folded her arms and let out a long, theatrical sigh.
“I knew this would happen.”
She knocked again, harder this time, the sound sharp against the quiet morning.
“Wren! If you don’t get up in the next ten seconds, don’t blame me for whatever happens next.”
Still silence.
A slow smile spread across Lyra’s face. She tilted her head, listening. Nothing. Not even a sleepy groan.
“So… that’s how you want to play?”
She walked into the kitchen, bare feet padding across the cool tile. The refrigerator light spilled over her as she opened the door and pulled out a bottle of water that had been sitting there all night. The glass was frosted with cold. She closed the door with her hip and headed back down the short hallway, not bothering to knock this time. She simply pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was a disaster.
Clothes were draped over the chair in a messy heap. Books sat in uneven stacks on the desk, some still open as if Wren had fallen asleep in the middle of reading. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking most of the morning light so that only thin gold lines slipped in around the edges. The air smelled faintly of the lavender detergent they both used and the lingering scent of last night’s instant coffee.
In the middle of the bed, buried under a thick blanket, Wren slept like she had nowhere else to be in the world. Only the top of her messy brownish-gold hair stuck out.
Lyra shook her head, almost fond.
“You brought this upon yourself.”
She unscrewed the bottle cap and, without another word of warning, tipped the cold water over Wren’s face.
“Aaaah!”
Wren shot upright so fast the blanket tangled around her legs and she nearly toppled sideways off the mattress. Freezing water dripped down her cheeks and into the collar of her pajamas. She blinked hard, gasping, hair plastered to her forehead.
“What the—Lyra!” she yelled, voice still thick with sleep. “Are you crazy? Can’t someone sleep peacefully in this house?”
Lyra burst out laughing, the sound bright and unapologetic. She set the empty bottle on the nightstand and planted her hands on her hips.
“Oh, someone can sleep just fine. Just not this morning.”
She gave Wren a playful glare.
“Today is your first day at work. Did you forget already? You spent months preparing for this job, and now you’re about to sleep right through it.”
Wren froze. The last traces of sleep vanished from her face.
“My… first day…”
Her eyes went wide. She scrambled for her phone on the bedside table, fingers slipping on the wet screen.
*7:35 A.M.*
“I’m late!”
She flung the blanket aside and jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over it. Lyra leaned against the doorframe, still laughing.
“I’ve never seen someone panic this much.”
“You could’ve woken me earlier!”
“I’ve been trying for fifteen minutes! You sleep like the dead.”
Wren groaned and pressed both hands to her face. “Okay… okay… you win.”
“Now hurry before your boss fires you on your first day,” Lyra said, already turning to leave. “I’ll make you coffee. You can drink it on the way.”
A few minutes later, the apartment sounded like a battlefield.
Cabinets slammed. Drawers scraped open and shut. Footsteps raced up and down the hallway.
“Where are my shoes?”
“Weren’t they by the door?”
“No!”
“Check under the sofa.”
“How did they even get under the sofa?”
“I don’t know! Maybe they walked there by themselves.”
Wren finally found the black flats, half-hidden beneath a throw pillow. She shoved her feet into them while trying to zip her trousers with one hand. Her hair was still damp from the water, so she twisted it into a quick, messy ponytail. There was no time for a proper shower. She wiped her face with a damp cloth, dabbed on the lightest makeup she could manage, and grabbed the white blazer hanging on the back of the chair.
Lyra met her at the door with a travel mug of coffee.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Wren said, taking it.
“I know. Now go. And text me when you get there so I know you didn’t get lost or faint from nerves.”
Wren managed a shaky smile, then was out the door and running down the stairs two at a time.
Outside, the morning air was already warm. She raised her hand and called for a taxi, heart still hammering. A yellow cab slowed and pulled over. She climbed in, breathing hard, the coffee mug clutched in both hands.
“Good morning, miss. Where to?”
“Sterling Group Headquarters, please.”
The driver nodded and eased into traffic.
Wren leaned her head against the window and watched the city wake up around her. Tall glass buildings caught the early sunlight and threw it back in bright flashes. People hurried along the sidewalks with paper cups and briefcases. A street vendor was already setting up his cart on the corner. The coffee shops had lines stretching out the doors.
Her hands were still trembling slightly around the mug.
She took a slow breath.
'Calm down, Wren." She whispered to herself. 'You earned this.'
More than thirty people had applied for the position. She had spent weeks preparing — late nights at the kitchen table, practicing interview answers out loud until Lyra started throwing pillows at her, reading every article she could find about the company, sacrificing weekends and sleep and more cups of coffee than she cared to count. When the offer finally came, she had sat on the edge of her bed staring at the email for a full minute before she believed it was real.
Out of everyone, they had chosen her.
She deserved this.
The taxi slowed and stopped.
“We’re here, ma’am.”
Wren looked up.
The Sterling Group building rose in front of her like a wall of glass and steel, catching the morning light so brightly it almost hurt to look at. The company’s silver logo gleamed above the wide entrance. People in tailored suits moved in and out through the revolving doors with the easy confidence of those who belonged there.
She paid the driver, stepped onto the pavement, and stood still for a moment.
Her reflection looked back at her from the polished glass — petite, barely five feet tall, long brownish-gold hair pulled into a slightly uneven ponytail, heart-shaped face still a little flushed from the rush. She wore the white blazer over a simple blouse and black trousers that made her look more put-together than she felt. Simple silver earrings and a delicate necklace. And on her left wrist, the small silver watch her father had given her the year before he died. She never left the house without it.
She touched the face of the watch lightly with her fingertip, the metal cool against her skin.
_This is the beginning of a new chapter,_ she told herself quietly.
She straightened her shoulders, adjusted the strap of her bag, and walked toward the entrance.
Little did Wren know…
Walking through those glass doors wouldn’t just change her career.
It would bring her face-to-face with the man she had spent years trying to forget.
- Writer
