Fake It Til You Make It

If "faking it" were an Olympic sport, Aira would already have a gold medal around her neck and a corporate sponsorship to match.

She stood in the lobby of Vanguard Solutions—a building made of glass, steel, and intimidating silence. Catching her reflection in the elevator doors, she adjusted her "power suit." It was a thrift-store find, but with enough steam-ironing and sheer desperation, she looked like she belonged in a boardroom rather than a bus stop.

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. They didn't have a prescription, but she had long ago realized Rule #1: The Aesthetic. Wear the glasses. Always wear the glasses. People take you twenty percent more seriously when they think you’re nearsighted.

"You’ve got this," she whispered. "Fake it 'til you make it, Aira. Or at least, fake it until they forget you’ve been unemployed for six months."The boardroom was colder than she expected. At the head of the table sat Elias Vren, a CEO who looked like he’d been carved out of granite and expensive cologne. He didn't look up when she walked in; he was too busy dissecting a digital report."Ms. Reyes," Elias began, his voice a low baritone that made Aira’s pulse skip. "Your resume says you specialize in 'High-Stakes Crisis Management' and that you are fluent in three foreign languages."Aira maintained a neutral expression, practicing Rule #2: Weaponized Confidence. If you look like you know what you’re doing, most people are too polite—or too busy—to ask for proof.In reality, "Crisis Management" meant she once talked her landlord out of evicting her using only a half-eaten box of donuts and a very convincing sob story. As for the "Foreign Languages," she could order ramen in Japanese and knew exactly how to say "I'm lost" in Spanish."That’s correct, Mr. Vren," Aira said, her voice steady. "In a globalized economy, adaptability is the only true currency."Elias finally looked up. His eyes were a piercing grey, scanning her like she was a line of code with a potential bug. This brought her to Rule #3: The Elias Factor. Don’t let the CEO see you sweat. He looks like the type who smells fear—and expensive perfume."Good," Elias said, leaning back. "Because our 12:00 PM lunch is with a group of French investors. Our lead translator is out with the flu, so I assume you can handle the negotiations?"The air seemed to leave the room. French? The only French Aira knew involved the words "Oui" and "Baguette.""Of course," Aira replied, flashing a winning smile that masked the internal scream echoing in her skull. "C'est la vie, Mr. Vren."Elias raised an eyebrow. "I hope the negotiations go better than 'such is life,' Ms. Reyes. See you at noon."The moment the door closed behind her, Aira bolted for the nearest restroom stall. She hit the final realization of her strategy, Rule #4: The Trap. The problem with faking it is that eventually, you actually have to do something.She whipped out her phone, her fingers trembling as she typed into the search bar: How to pass as a fluent French speaker in 90 minutes (URGENT).She stayed in the stall for exactly three minutes, breathing into her cupped hands and wondering if the building’s ventilation system could detect fraud. She looked at her reflection in the polished chrome of the toilet paper dispenser. "You are a professional," she lied to the metal. "You are definitely not about to be escorted out by security for linguistic identity theft."As she washed her hands, the door swung open. A woman in a sharp navy blazer walked in, radiating the kind of effortless competence that Aira was currently trying to manufacture."First day?" the woman asked, checking her lipstick."That obvious?" Aira tried for a light, breezy chuckle. It came out sounding a bit like a tea kettle whistle."It’s the Elias Vren effect," the woman said. "Everyone looks like they’ve seen a ghost after their first meeting. I’m Sarah, Head of Operations. Just remember: he values efficiency over everything. Don’t give him fluff. He hates fluff."Efficiency. No fluff. Aira nodded solemnly, her brain frantically deleting the five decorative adjectives she’d planned to use to describe her "global perspective."Aira retreated to a quiet corner of the employee lounge, hiding behind a massive monstera plant. She had eighty-two minutes left. She opened a language app and set the intensity to "Insane."“Je voudrais commander...” she whispered. “Nous sommes ravis de vous rencontrer...”As she practiced, she began to realize Rule #5: The Mirror Technique. If you can't speak the language, mimic the energy. If the investors looked stern, she would look stern. If they laughed, she would offer a sophisticated, knowing tilt of her head.But then there was Elias. He wouldn't be looking at the investors; he’d be looking at her. He was the kind of man who didn't just listen to words; he watched the way your jaw moved when you said them.At 11:55 AM, Aira stood outside the executive dining room. Her stomach was doing backflips, but she adjusted her glasses. She could see Elias through the glass doors. He had discarded his blazer, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that looked just as intimidating as his stare.He turned, his eyes locking onto hers. He didn't smile, but he checked his watch and nodded once. Aira took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and pushed the door open.Rule #6: No Retreat. Once you’re in the room, the lie is the only truth you have left."Ah, Ms. Reyes," Elias said, his voice smooth and dangerously expectant. "Just in time. Our guests have arrived."Three men in impeccably tailored suits rose from the table. The lead investor stepped forward and unleashed a rapid-fire string of French that sounded like a beautiful, terrifying waterfall.Aira didn't blink. She reached out, shook his hand, and gave him her best "Power Suit" smile."Enchantée," she said, her voice dripping with a confidence she absolutely did not feel. "Let's get started, shall we?"

END

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 1 of Fake It 'Til You Make It! Get ready for the chaos as Aira navigates the corporate world—and the intimidating Elias Vren—with nothing but her wits and a lot of bluffing. Hope you enjoy the ride!Happy reading,

KM Dizon