Chapter 2
1196 Words
It had been three weeks since graduation, and the post-celebration high had fully worn off. The leftover balloons in Lila's apartment had shriveled, her once-tidy resume folder was now stuffed with rejections, and the real world felt a lot colder than she'd expected.
She met up with her friends, Amaya and Jo, at their favorite smoothie place, a tiny shop squeezed between a laundromat and a flower store. It wasn’t fancy, but it had comfy seats and cheap prices. They sunk into the cushioned bench by the window, each nursing a colorful drink.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Jo said, squinting at Lila.
“I haven’t,” Lila sighed, taking a long sip of her mango blend. “You try staring at job boards all night and not losing your mind.”
Amaya tilted her head. “Still nothing?”
Lila shrugged. “A couple interviews, but they were scams. One guy asked if I knew how to dance and type at the same time.”
Jo choked on her drink. “What?!”
Lila smiled for the first time all day. “Yeah. I almost said yes just to see what would happen.”
Amaya shook her head, laughing softly. “Lila, seriously, you’re way too smart to be wasting time with sketchy startups and fake offers. You’ve got a tech degree, actual brains, and... okay, maybe you talk too much during interviews.”
“That’s called being charming,” Lila said, flipping her ponytail dramatically. Then she sighed. “I just want something real. Stable. Somewhere I can grow and not be... scared, you know?”
The mood shifted slightly. They all knew what she meant without her saying it. The rent. Her younger brother. The pressure she tried to hide behind her jokes.
Jo leaned over and gently bumped shoulders with her. “So try somewhere real, then. Like Blackthorne.”
Lila looked at Jo, then burst out laughing. “Blackthorne? Jo nodded, “The one with the billionaire robot CEO who fires people for breathing too loud?”
Amaya rolled her eyes. “Come on. It’s a long shot, yeah, but why not try?”
“I’d probably get escorted out of the building before I even say my name,” Lila joked. “I bet their lobby smells like money and crushed dreams.”
Jo snorted, then added, “And overpriced cologne. No, for real Lila, try it.” She said with a more serious face.
“I can't” Lila whined
“Why not?” Amaya asked. “It’s been weeks. You’ve applied everywhere else. And they just posted an opening for a junior tech assistant, entry level, full-time, real benefits. Doesn’t sound like a scam to me.”
Lila rolled her eyes, but her stomach twisted. “Guys, it’s Blackthorne. THE Blackthorne. Damien Blackthorne probably has robots interviewing people.”
“Better a robot than some guy asking if you can dance while coding,” Jo muttered.
“Look,” Amaya said, pulling her phone out and tapping quickly, “you’ve got nothing to lose. Just apply. If they ignore you, fine. But if they don’t…” She slid the screen across the table. “Boom. Right there. Apply now.”
Lila stared at the listing. The logo looked so polished and intimidating. She imagined walking into their massive, glass-walled building with her thrift store heels and coffee-stained bag.
Still.
The role wasn’t unreachable. It asked for basic tech knowledge, attention to detail, and a willingness to learn. She had all of that. And maybe, just maybe, it would lead to something better.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, sipping her smoothie again.
“Thinking about it won’t get you a job,” Jo said.
Lila smirked. “Thank you, Moms.”
But later that night, after she'd cleaned up dinner, she sat at the kitchen table with the job listing open again.
Her friends' voices echoed in her mind.
What’s the worst that could happen?
She stared at the Blackthorne job listing again, biting her lip.
It still felt crazy. That company was a powerhouse. Everyone in tech dreamed of working there. But then again, hadn't she always promised herself she'd aim high, no matter where she came from?
With a shaky breath, Lila attached her resume, wrote a short, honest cover letter, and clicked “Submit.”
Her heart raced.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself, closing the laptop. “Now I wait.”
She didn’t expect anything to come of it. She really didn’t.
Lila woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing non-stop under her pillow. She groaned, blindly reaching for it, eyes still half shut. The brightness of the screen nearly blinded her.
New Email – RE: Application to Blackthorne Enterprises
She blinked, sat up, and opened it, still expecting something like:
Congratulations! You’ve been selected for a lifetime opportunity to sell fake software to strangers across the globe!
But instead, it read:
Dear Ms. Carter,
We were impressed by your application for the Junior Assistant Tech Position at Blackthorne Enterprises. We would like to invite you for an in-person interview at our headquarters this Friday at 10:00 a.m. Please respond to confirm your availability.
Sincerely,
HR Department, Blackthorne Enterprises
Lila stared at the screen. Then reread the email. Then again.
“Nope,” she muttered. “No way. This is fake.”
She got out of bed, still holding her phone, walking barefoot across the apartment to find her laptop. Jamie was still snoring in the next room, and the floor was cold under her feet, but she didn’t care. She had to be sure.
She typed “Blackthorne Enterprises HR email address” into the search bar and cross-checked everything. It all matched. The domain, the layout, even the HR rep’s name. It wasn’t a scam. It was real.
Lila flopped onto the couch, stunned.
She had applied on a whim. No fancy cover letter, no sleek resume design, just her, being honest and desperate and slightly too casual. She’d even spilled tea on the keyboard while typing it.
And now… they wanted her in for an interview?
“What if they clicked the wrong file?” she whispered, holding the phone like it might explode. “What if they think I’m someone else?”
Still, her fingers hovered over the reply button.
Her phone buzzed again, this time from Jo.
Jo: Morning. Check your email yet?
Lila: ...Yes. I think I’m being pranked.
Jo: Girl. You’re going to BLACKTHORNE. This is not a drill.
Lila felt her stomach twist with nerves. She could picture it now, walking into that giant skyscraper, getting lost in the lobby, forgetting how to breathe in front of the cold, impossibly perfect CEO.
She quickly hit reply.
Thank you for the opportunity. I’ll be there Friday at 10 a.m.
Send.
And just like that, it was real.
She leaned her head back on the couch cushion and whispered to the ceiling, “What did I just do?”
Somewhere deep down, under the nerves and doubt, something in her sparked.
This might actually be the beginning.
- Writer
