Falling For Him: Mr. Arrogant

“The award for Best Graduating Student in Robotics Engineering goes to Bella Richards,” the Master of Ceremonies announced. Applause echoed through the large auditorium. As I rose to my feet, a wave of pride surged through me. I walked toward the stage in my flowing graduation gown. In the crowd, my parents and friends cheered at the top of their voices. “Go, Bella!” Dad’s voice echoed. The Master of Ceremonies shook my hand warmly. “Congratulations, Bella.” “Thank you, sir.” “May I have the honor of inviting the department chair, Lewis Donald, to the stage to present the award?” Lewis walked up with a proud smile. He took the plaque from the Master of Ceremonies, shifted his attention toward me, and shook my hand. “Bella Richards has distinguished herself through excellence and dedication. I present you with this honor,” Lewis said as he handed over the award. I lifted the crystal plaque high above my head, so everyone could see it. Cameras flashed across the room. “Bella Richards, do you have anything to say?” the Master of Ceremonies asked, holding the microphone toward me. I took the microphone and cleared my throat. “I want to thank everyone who made time to celebrate with me today.” My voice was steady. Applause filled the auditorium. “I want to thank God especially, my parents, my chair, and my lecturers who shaped me into who I am today. I want to dedicate this award to my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Richards.” “That’s my daughter!” Dad stood straight up, gesturing toward me. Mom kept smiling. “I want to let you all know that today isn’t just for my graduation, but also for my birthday.” The audience cheered and wished me a happy birthday. “I promise you, Dad and Mom, on this special day of mine, that I shall get you brand-new cars by this time next year.” As I stared at my certificate, I genuinely believed the hardest part of my journey was over. Little did I know, it was just the beginning. After graduation, reality began to set in. I carefully tailored my resume and cover letters, applying to several robotics companies in the city. Days passed. Weeks passed. Even months passed. No response. Eventually, I received a few interview invitations, but each one ended in rejection. Just when my hopes began to dwindle, I received an email stating that I had made the shortlist of the top five candidates for a position at Ragel Robotics. That night, my excitement kept me awake for hours. I spent my last savings on a professional suit online. A day before the interview, I ironed my outfit and neatly hung it in my closet. At dawn, I got ready and arrived at the company before anyone else. After spending hours in the quiet waiting room, my name was finally called. Inside the office, the recruiter flipped through my credentials page by page. Beneath the desk, I clutched my skirt, trying to hide my trembling fingers. She didn’t notice. Then she cleared her throat. “Miss Bella, you’re highly qualified …” “Finally …” I whispered to myself. She closed the file, and our eyes met. “But…” The word hung in the air like a time bomb. I swallowed hard. “You don’t have the specific experience we’re looking for.” “Ma’am, I’m a fast learner,” I pleaded. “I’m ready to undergo training.” “I’m sorry, Miss Bella. Someone else has a better chance. She has the experience we’re looking for.” It was the fifth time I had heard those exact words in a month, but this time, they hit even harder. They felt like punches to my chest. “How am I supposed to get experience if nobody hires me?” I blurted out. The atmosphere shifted immediately. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to …” I lowered my head. Her expression hardened, but she still maintained her professional composure. “Miss Bella, you may leave my office,” she said, gesturing toward the door. I stood up, grabbed my file, and walked out, closing the door firmly behind me. As I walked across the waiting room, I saw some applicants shaking hands and congratulating themselves. Others sat waiting to be called inside. I kept my head down and walked toward the exit. I was too embarrassed to look at anyone. Tears filled my eyes as I clutched my file against my chest. I bumped hard into someone. My file flew out of my hands, and papers scattered all over the floor. Before I could hit the floor, a strong hand caught me firmly by my waist. I gasped and looked up. Sharp blue eyes met mine, and for a few seconds, neither of us blinked. He was young, well-built, dressed in an immaculate black suit, and smelled of expensive cologne. I slipped away from his grip. “How dare you?” “Next time, watch your step,” he said with a smirk at the corner of his lips. He picked up his own file from the floor. I watched him walk away until he disappeared into the executive elevator. My fists clenched. “Who does he think he is?” I picked up my credentials from the floor and stuffed them back into the file in a hurry. I just wanted to escape before anyone else saw my embarrassment. I walked down to the nearby bus stop. After waiting for fifteen minutes, the bus finally arrived. I waved my hand in relief. At least I could go home and rest peacefully. I reached into my wallet and realized I had no money left to pay for a ticket. The driver stared at me for a moment. “Miss, are you boarding or not?” “Not anymore. Sorry, sir.” I watched as the other passengers boarded before he drove off. I let out a weary breath. “When is this nightmare ever going to stop?” Fresh out of school, no job, no money for bills, not even enough for a bus ticket. I had imagined that graduating as the top robotics engineer in my department would mean life would finally smile at me. I had dreamed of traveling, helping my family with their financial struggles, living comfortably, and eventually establishing my own robotics firm. But I was completely wrong. I began the long walk home. My heels hit the concrete pathway with the same miserable rhythm with every step I took. As the sun scorched my skin, the image of the arrogant man I had bumped into earlier crossed my mind. What happened to common politeness? What happened to saying, “I’m sorry”? Or better still, “It was an accident”? What happened to being a gentleman? “He thinks he’s so right. I pity the woman in his life.” The frustration of not giving him a piece of my mind weighed heavily on me. “I pray I never see his face again,” I muttered. When I finally arrived home, the first thing that crossed my mind was to check my mailbox. I opened it and realized another set of bills had arrived about three days earlier. I stuffed them into my handbag without opening them. As soon as I walked inside, I gazed around my apartment. With its peeling walls, it felt so small. Worst of all was the empty fridge. Everything felt hollow. I reached into my handbag for the bills, and that’s when I saw a red slip. An eviction notice. It was the last straw. I sank onto the worn-out couch, and hot tears finally streamed down my cheeks. A moment later, my phone buzzed on the cushion. I stared at the screen. Unknown Number. I ignored it. It buzzed again. I wiped my tears and answered. “Miss Bella Richards?” “Yes…” “You’re hired.”