The Fire Within

Hearthrow

After I exited the bus at the city entrance, I board a taxi to the company.

The driver was extra chatty, but I managed to draw out his voice, lost in thoughts of the interview, I wasn't really paying attention to his words, I just nod at whatever he says.

Alighting from the cab, I bring out my wallet to pay.

“I will give you double the money for a few minutes in the back car”, he smiles suggestively, showing his tobacco stained teeth.

I almost gagged at the sight, the thought of what he's insinuating brought bile up the throat, but I manage to quell the urge to purge.

“I rather hump a dead rat”, I spat, throwing his money at his face, I walk towards the office building.

“Teasing b***h!”, he shouts.

I ignore him, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to me, should I stop for a words exchange.

“Your ID card please”, a bulky man in suit, stops me at the door.

I showed him my ID and after a minute or so of identity verification, I was allowed into the building.

Wow, was my first thought the moment I stepped my feet inside the well-known company.

The gleaming glass windows were reflecting the rays of the Sun in ways I haven't seen before.

The whole decor of the down floor is just out of the world, there was a see through elevator on the left side and a more personal one at the extreme.

The workers went about their businesses in well-made custom-made designer suits, there wasn't an under dressed one among them.

I felt intimidated in my well-worn pants and old shoes, I blushed in embarrassment when I felt their curious stares on me.

A female walks past in a well ironed black shirt, a black Gucci skirt and black heels, her red hair tied up in a ponytail to compliment her looks.

“Are you here for the interview?” , I hear the receptionist ask the moment Gucci girl stopped at her table (the receptionist's).

“Yes ma'am”, the girl was all politeness, I don't blame her at all, working in this company is an automatic ticket to any job position you want in any company.

Coupled with the pay and their workers' bonus, the job is the best among the other companies.

“Take the elevator to the second floor where the others are, someone will be there shortly to interview you”, the receptionist turns back to her task, dismissing her.

I didn't bother asking for my directions, I just follow the girl.

Turning when she noticed my presence, she gives me a once over, her upturned nose a clear indication of her disapproval of my attire.

“Are you here for the job interview?” she asked the moment we stepped into the elevator, taking care to keep a noticeable distance between us.

“ Yes I am, any problem?” I raise a brow, if she has a problem with that, it's her plate of custard, not mine.

“You don't look like a person attending an interview, you look….” she gives me another once over" underdressed for this job interview”, she leans towards me as if sharing a secret," a word of advice, leave now before you're thrown out by the interviewers. You won't get the job, seeming like you belong to the slum you obviously came out from”, she bitched.

“ It's none of your concern, you're an interviewee just like I, you are not entitled to belittle me. I know I wasn't dressed as extravagantly as you're, yet that doesn't give you the right to insult me, if you want an insult just give me a sign”, turning towards the door, I ignor3 her.

It doesn't take forever to realize a person's personality, it just took me seconds to find out hers.

“ Am just trying to help you out”, she says a moment later.

“Shove that your so-called help up your ass b***h, I don't care!” I shout at her.

“You're similarly to the slums you came out from, you can take the monkey out of the jungle, but you can't take the jungle out of the monkey and moreover_”, the elevator dings signifying our arrival.

*

There were seven of us in total, three males, I included and four females, bitchy girl tried her tactics on a blonde barbie, and she gave her the tongue lashing of her life…

The same with the petite brunette, who gave her a run for her money.

Watching her have, as she tried to ward off competitions, is the highlight of my day.

Checking the time on my wristwatch, I discover it's almost 10 and the said interviewer was nowhere to be found, the interview was scheduled to start by 9 and he or she's an hour late.

“Sorry am late”, we hear a voice speak up.

Turning towards the door, we're met with the sight of a flushed looking male chugging his briefcase like his life depends solely on it.

He was putting on a now rumpled dress shirt with designer's slack, his brown hair was messy as if he ran his hands through it numerous time, despite its wildness, the hair fits him.

His boyish handsome face was complimented by his sea green eyes, judging from where he's standing, I can tell he's a 7'4 (2.24 m)a tall frame to my 5 '4 petite sizes.

“Let's proceed”, he walked into the office leaving us behind, few minutes later,

“Flauna Nachi,” we hear him call from his office.

The red haired girl confidently walked into the office.

“When did you submit your application letter?” the lean guy (he was leaner, to the other guy) asks.

Turning in surprise, I point at myself, "me?” I ask, turning around to be certain he was actually talking to me, to avoid embarrassing myself by answering a question that wasn't directed at me.

He nods," yes you, who else?”, he smiled making his two cheeks dimple prominent.

“I submitted mine two months ago, this company have been my dream ever since I graduated from college, but getting a job here is a hassle.” I sigh. I've given up all hopes of securing an interview.

He nods in agreement, "I can relate to that, I actually wrote mine five months ago.

Note my surprise when I got their mail yesterday.

I accepted the invitation without a second thought and here I am”, he smiles, and I find myself mirroring him.