The Beginning of More

Ariana Brooks sat in the lecture hall like she always did. Third row, slightly to the left, notebook open, pen resting between her fingers. The professor’s voice filled the room, steady and distant, talking through concepts she would normally have been fully locked into. But today, nothing was sticking. Her eyes stayed on the board, but her mind kept slipping away back to the same thing. The job applications. She had sent them out one after another over the past weeks, carefully written, carefully edited, hoping at least one would respond. One in particular kept sitting at the front of her thoughts, the one that had marked the role as urgent, the one that came with decent pay and, more importantly, accommodation. That was the part she couldn’t ignore. She really needed it. Quietly, she reached into her bag and pulled her phone just enough so no one would notice. The screen lit up under her desk. No new email. Ariana stared at it for a second longer than she should have. Her chest tightened slightly as she locked the screen again. Before she could slide the phone fully back into her bag, she felt a light tap on her arm. She flinched. Turning quickly, she met Lila Bennett’s eyes. Her friend wasn’t even trying to hide the warning in her expression. "Really? In class?" Lila mouthed silently, glancing toward the front where the professor was still speaking. Ariana exhaled slowly and gave a small, almost apologetic smile. Without arguing, she slipped the phone fully into her bag and straightened in her seat. "Focus. Just focus." She whispered to herself. But the rest of the lecture passed in a blur of half-heard sentences and distracted thoughts. When the class finally ended, chairs scraped against the floor and students began packing their things. The professor left, and the room slowly emptied into noise and movement. Ariana gathered her books while Lila waited beside her. As they stepped out into the hallway together, Lila bumped her shoulder lightly. “You were not paying attention at all,” she said, narrowing her eyes. Ariana let out a small breath, almost guilty. “I was checking my email to see if I got any response.” Lila stopped walking for a second. “Response? For what?” Ariana hesitated, then shrugged slightly. “The job I applied for last week. I thought I would’ve heard back by now.” Lila’s expression softened immediately. “Oh… that one.” Ariana nodded. “I don’t understand it,” she continued as they walked again. “They said it was urgent. Like they needed someone immediately. So how does it take more than a week with no response at all?” Lila sighed and nudged her gently. “It happens, Ari. Companies are weird like that. Don’t lose hope yet, okay?” Ariana didn’t answer immediately, but her silence said enough. Lila studied her for a moment, then added more softly, “And you know you can still stay with my family as long as you need to, right?” Ariana gave a faint smile, looking down as they walked. “I know,” she said quietly. “It’s just… I want to be independent. I want to earn my own money so I can build my future without limitations.” She paused, adjusting her bag strap. “I don’t want to add more pressure on your parents. They already do so much for you and also me. I don’t want them carrying too much of my responsibilities.” Lila immediately shook her head. “Stop that.” Ariana looked at her. “You are not a burden,” Lila said firmly. “You never have been. My parents don’t see you like that.” A softer tone entered her voice. “You know how close our parents were before… what happened." Lila paused briefly then continued. "After your parents died in that car crash, they never saw you as an outsider. They see you as someone they’re protecting, not someone who's bothering them.” Ariana’s expression softened at that. Her voice came out smaller. “Thank you, Lila.” Lila bumped her shoulder again, this time playfully. “Good. Now that your mood is slightly less tragic,” she said, “we’re going to get food. I’m starving.” Ariana let out a small laugh, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I’m starving too,” she admitted. “Finally, something we agree on,” Lila said, linking her arm with hers. And together, they walked toward the cafeteria. --- The spacious office was unusually quiet. Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Ethan Cole sat behind his desk, his gaze fixed on a framed photograph in his hands. The picture had been taken years ago. Back when smiling had come easier. When trust hadn't felt like a mistake. His eyes lingered on the photo far longer than he had intended. For a moment, the room seemed even quieter. Then he released a slow breath. Without another look, he lowered the frame and dropped it into the trash can beside his desk. The sound was soft, but final. Then, a knock sounded at the door. Ethan leaned back in his chair. "Come in." The door opened, and Dylan Hayes stepped inside. His personal assistant carried a tablet in one hand and wore his usual composed expression. "Good afternoon, sir," Dylan said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." "No," Ethan replied simply. "What is it?" Dylan took a few steps forward. "I wanted to inform you that I've finished reviewing the applications for the house assistant position." Ethan nodded for him to continue. "There were quite a number of submissions," Dylan said. "However, I found one applicant whose qualifications and circumstances seem to match the requirements you're looking for." Ethan folded his arms. "And your recommendation?" "I believe she's worth interviewing." Dylan replied. For the first time, Ethan showed a hint of interest. "Alright." Dylan waited. "Schedule an interview." Ethan said. "Yes, sir." Dylan nodded. "This weekend," Ethan added. "My schedule should be lighter by then." Dylan immediately made a note on his tablet. "Understood, sir. I'll arrange it right away." Ethan gave a brief nod. "Anything else?" "No, sir." Dylan politely shook his head. "Then go ahead." Ethan said. "Of course." With that, Dylan turned and left the office. The door clicked shut behind him. Silence settled into the room once more. For several seconds, Ethan remained where he was. Then, almost unconsciously, his gaze drifted toward the trash can beside his desk. The photograph remained there. He looked away, picked up a file from his desk and buried himself in work. Just as he always did.