Chapter 2
1261 Words
I woke up to the sound of knuckles hammering the front door like a warning.
Three quick knocks. Pause. Then five more.
Leah sat up on the sofa bed across from mine, rubbing her eyes. “Tell me that’s not who I think it is.”
“Unless the city suddenly started hand-delivering good news,” I whispered, crawling out of bed.
I peeked through the peephole.
Great. Mr. Johnson, our landlord. A stubby man with a constant frown and a voice that always sounded like he was halfway through chewing gravel.
I opened the door.
“Maya,” he greeted me like it was a menace.
“Good morning, Mr. Johnson.”
“It’s the tenth.”
“I know.”
“That means rent was due five days ago.”
“We’re—working on it.”
“You and your roommate are always ‘working on it,’” he lashed out. “I don’t want to keep hearing stories. I need that money by Friday, or I’m filing for eviction.”
I swallowed. “Please. Just a few more days.”
He gazed at me. “What do you girls do all day anyway? Paint your nails and watch telenovelas?”
“I have a job interview today,” I said, straighter. “Big one.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What, the fashion place or some café again?”
“No. Stravons Empire.”
That got him.
He snorted. “Stravons? Please. They don’t even let people like us clean their toilets.”
He turned and marched down the stairs before I could say another word.
I shut the door and leaned my back against it, exhaling slowly.
Leah tossed me a granola bar from the counter. “That man deserves to trip over a Lego in the dark.”
“We have till Friday.”
“Or we’ll be homeless in February,” she said, her voice dry.
I took a bite of the bar. It tasted like cardboard.
The next morning i was half-dressed, pacing our tiny living room with an iron in one hand and a shirt in the other.
Leah was trying to fix my blouse with safety pins. “Okay, stand still.”
“Are you sure the collar doesn’t look weird?”
“No. You look smart and desperate. Which is perfect.”
I gave her a look.
“Joking,” she added. “Kind of.”
“I haven’t been inside a real office in a year.”
“You’ve got this.”
“I barely have shoes without holes.”
“You’ve got this.”
I stopped pacing. “Leah?”
“Hm?”
“If I don’t get this job, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
She met my eyes and for once her silence spoke louder than a word out comfort. Just reached into the plastic drawer beside her mattress and handed me a metrocard.
“I loaded ten bucks on it last night,” she said.
I stared at it. “Leah—”
“Don’t argue. You can pay me back when you're CEO.”
I smiled, but my eyes burned a little.
I was on the subway station. I slid the metro card through the entry checkpoint and prayed it didn’t reject me. Swipe Accepted.
Small mercies.
As I waited for the downtown train, I texted my little brother.
> Maya: Interview today. Big company. Wish me luck?
No response yet. He was probably still asleep, or at the library using their Wi-Fi. He was staying with a friend of mine while trying to finish community college. I tried to send him what little I could every month. Lately, “little” had meant zero.
I got to Stravons Tower. The building was taller than any I've ever entered. Forty floors of glass, steel, and invisible money.
The lobby alone could swallow our entire apartment building and still have space for a dance floor. Polished marble. Men in tailored suits. Women in red-botton heels. A security guard eyed me like I was lost.
“I’m here for the assistant interview,” I said, holding up the HR email on my phone.
“ID?”
I handed him my tattered driver’s license.
He glanced at it, then handed me a visitor badge. “Take the elevators to 57. Don’t touch anything else.”
“Got it.”
Elevator ride from hell. I stood alone for exactly five seconds before a wave of suits filed in. I pressed against the back wall, trying to look invisible.
That’s when he entered.
Lucas Stravon.
I didn’t recognize him at first. Not until the whispering started.
“—That’s him, right?”
“—He looks different in person.”
“—Taller. Colder.”
He was tall, sure. Sharp jaw, darker brown hair than I expected. Suit like something out of a luxury magazine. He didn’t look at anyone. Not even once.
Not even when the intern next to me tripped slightly trying to move aside.
He just stared at the doors as they closed.
There was this... stillness about him. Like the rest of the world operated on a different tempo.
57. Ding. He walked out without a word.
Everyone else seemed to exhale once he was gone.
“What’s his deal?” someone whispered as they exited.
I stepped into the HR department on floor 57, heart still racing.
A woman with tight curls and sharper heels glanced up from her computer.
“Maya Cole?”
“Yes.”
“Have a seat.”
I sat. Waited. Waited more. My hands started sweating.
Another girl came in—polished, blonde, holding a Zara purse. She barely glanced my way before being ushered into the interview room.
I swallowed. I was out of place here.
They’d take one look at my thrift-store blouse and worn out shoes and wonder who let the intern’s intern apply.
It was 9:53 a.m already then the HR woman called me in.
“Maya?” I stood. My knees felt shaky.
Inside the room were two people: an older woman named Ms. Valentine, and a younger man who barely looked up from his laptop.
They asked about my experience, about multitasking, about handling pressure.
I answered everything.
Tried not to sound too desperate.
Tried to sit like I belonged.
Then Ms. Valentine leaned forward.
“You know this role reports directly to Mr. Stravon, yes?”
My brain blanked out.
“I—what?”
“It’s a junior-level support role, but we’re looking to groom someone who can handle pressure. He’s… particular.”
Understatement of the year.
I nodded slowly. “I’m ready to learn.”
The younger man finally looked up. “Do you have issues with authority?”
“Not unless authority has issues with me.”
He smirked. Ms. Valentine didn’t.
“We’ll be in touch,” she said.
I stepped back into the cold wind of the city. My heart was pounding. I didn’t know if I’d aced it.
But I hadn’t crashed. I hadn’t cried. I hadn’t said anything stupid. And that… was something.
I pulled out my phone and texted Leah:
> Maya: Interview done. No idea how it went.
Leah: Does your soul still feel intact?
Maya: Barely.
Leah: Then I say you crushed it.
That night, I lay on the couch staring at the ceiling, praying we wouldn’t be evicted before I got a callback.
And somewhere inside me, a small voice whispered:
Just one yes. That’s all it takes.
- Writer
