Not My Type, But My Love

I never imagined my life would take a turn like this. My name is Anika, and I’m currently an intern at one of the top marketing firms in the city. The job wasn’t exactly what I expected when I moved to the city to chase my dreams. In fact, it was far from it. I spend most of my time fetching coffee, handling paperwork, and trying not to get in the way of the senior staff. It’s not glamorous, but it’s a start. And that's all I can hope for, right? I’ve always been a shy person. The kind of girl who’d rather spend her evenings reading a book in the comfort of her apartment than going out to mingle at fancy events. Social situations have never come naturally to me. I’m quiet, reserved, and sometimes, it feels like I’m invisible in a world that celebrates loud and outgoing personalities. But things were about to change. It all started with a text message from Tasha, a fellow intern who had somehow managed to climb the social ladder in the office much faster than I did. She was confident, outgoing, and always surrounded by people. So, when I received a message from her late in the afternoon, I was curious. Tasha: Hey, I’ve got a plus-one for this fancy modeling event tonight. I know you're not the party type, but seriously, you should come! It’ll be fun, I promise. Modeling? Me? I wasn’t the "model" type. I had never been to a modeling event, and I certainly didn’t see myself as someone who could fit in with that crowd. I was the shy intern who wore simple clothes and stuck to my routine. But then again, maybe this was the kind of opportunity I should step out of my comfort zone for. I paused, my fingers hovering over my phone’s keyboard. Me: I don’t know, Tasha. I’m not exactly into that kind of thing... Tasha: Come on! It’ll be a good break from all the work. Plus, you never know who you might meet. You deserve to have some fun! I bit my lip, glancing at the time. I had just finished up some work at the office, and the idea of escaping for a few hours sounded nice—especially if it meant meeting new people. Even if it wasn’t my scene, I couldn’t pass up the chance to experience something new. Me: Okay, fine. I’ll go. But you owe me one! Tasha: Deal! I’ll pick you up at 7! Don’t be late. And just like that, my evening was planned. But as the hours ticked by, I found myself doubting my decision. What would I wear? What would I even say to people? I wasn’t the type to just walk up to strangers and strike up conversations. The anxiety started building in my chest. At 7 PM, Tasha showed up at my apartment, looking effortlessly glamorous, of course. She was practically glowing, her confidence radiating. I, on the other hand, felt like a nervous wreck. But Tasha’s excitement was infectious, and before I knew it, I found myself heading out the door, unsure of what to expect.