Reporting Mr. Oddball

— ESTHER —

My palms start sweating with cold dread. My heart? Don't even ask. It feels like I'm at a rave all by myself inside my chestthumping hard, never stopping.

My eyes are locked on the middle-aged woman on the other side of my laptop screen. All I can do is wait for her to finish reading my resume with an expression I absolutely cannot read.

Five minutes feel like five centuries. Can we fast forward this, please? Come on, don't keep the queen waiting.

Yeah, I can see myself on screen. God, my makeup is on point today. My top's the best one I own too—okay, it was a flash sale find, but still. Down below? Just my pink polka-dot boxers. Not like anyone's gonna see anyway.

"Okay, Miss Esther Gabriella."

Okay, okay, okay. Esther, focus!

"We've reviewed the resume you sent last week. Today we'd like to confirm some information about your experience and background. You're applying for the Human Resources position, correct?"

I swallow hard. Yes, yes, a hundred points for you Ms. Alice! Please just approve me already. I'm so tired of getting rejection emails from every other company. At least if I get this, I'll finally have money to move apartments. Because mine is falling apart so bad it might collapse any second, forget waiting for a tornado, a sneeze might do it.

Okay, back to the laptop. In front of the camera, I put on the most professional smile I can manage. A smile that says, I'm competent, I'm calm, please trust me.

Thank god my phone's already propped right under the webcam, just needs a small angle shift to be visible. The second Alice finishes talking, I quickly open my go-to AI app. Blowblow.

Okay, bestie. Don't fail me now.

I hit the voice-to-text feature, mouthing silently. "Professional HR interview answer. Psychology graduate. Why Human Resources?"

Sent. The screen turns white. A loading icon appears. Spinning. Still spinning.

No, no, no. Please don't do this to me. I've defended AI way too many times for you to embarrass me like this.

Come on. Generate faster. A girl is trying to pay rent.

YES!

The answer appears. My eyes sweep across every line at lightning speed. Make the most of AI, kid. But also, also, also... don't get so dependent you forget you even have a brain.

"Okay." I quickly lift my head, looking back at the camera with my professional smile.

"That's correct, Ms. Alice," I say as calmly as I can, even as my eyes secretly dart to my phone screen. "As a Psychology graduate, I have a strong interest in pursuing a career in Human Resources. I believe that understanding human behavior can help a company manage its most valuable asset—its employees."

Most valuable asset? God, even I can hear how much that sounds like a line from some $20 LinkedIn influencer seminar, free stale cookies included. But whatever. As long as it sounds convincing.

Ms. Alice nods slightly. Okay, good. Guess that AI answer was pretty convincing after all. Who's the HR expert now?

I almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. Because a second later, Alice's expression shifts. Her eyebrows lift slightly, her eyes dart to the corner of the screen, and her back suddenly straightens like a student who just realized the principal walked into the classroom.

Huh?

The familiar Zoom notification chime cuts through the silence. A notification pops up in the corner of the screen. Ms. Alice looks back at the camera, her tone shifting drastically from casual to formal.

"Esther, could you hold on a moment? The owner of GJH Group and our CEO, Mr. Graham Howard, has just requested to join this interview session. He'd like to meet you personally."

I'm sorry. Who? Mr. Graham Howard? THE Graham Howard? The CEO?

Oh, I'm cooked.

My heart leaps straight out of my chest, does one full lap around the floor, then comes right back just to panic along with me. Did I accidentally hit some "Summon CEO" button?

A new video window pops up. Someone just joined the call.

Oh, shit!

"Mr. Howard," Ms. Alice greets, dipping her head slightly.

"Alice, you can leave the call. I'll take over the interview from here."

His voice is low, no harshness, no sharp edge to it. And that's exactly what makes it terrifying. This isn't the type of CEO who barks orders. This is the calm type and somehow, that kind is always more unsettling. The calm ones are always terrifying.

"Yes, sir." Alice exits the call immediately.

Great. Just me now. Alone. Face-to-face with the CEO of a multinational company. From a boarding room the size of a closet.

Wow. What a plot twist. I haven't even cleared the instant ramen cup off the table beside me.

My hands are cold. The pen in my grip trembles slightly. Please don't let me embarrass myself. Or worse, let the Wi-Fi betray me.

Mr. Graham hasn't said anything yet. His gaze is fixed on the camera not a sharp, intimidating stare, but the look of someone used to observing, evaluating, deciding. A moment later, he glances down at a sheet of paper in his hand. My resume.

I'm screwed.

And weirdly, that silence feels far more nerve-wracking than if he'd just started asking questions.

"Esther Gabriella." He pronounces my name with a crisp English accent even the way he says my name sounds expensive. "Psychology graduate. GPA 3.98." He lifts the paper slightly. "Nearly perfect."

Oh no. My heart drops straight to my stomach. Please don't bring up my GPA. My face suddenly heats up, not from pride—from panic. Oh God, that one grade from ahh... I can't even say it out loud!

Before I can even come up with an excuse in case he digs deeper into my resume, Mr. Graham sets the papers down, staring straight into the camera.

"You're hired, Esther."

Wait. Wait. Wait!! My brain stops working.

Loading... loading... loading...

Huh? He said I'm hired? Just like that? No "tell me about yourself"? No personality test? I hadn't even gotten to lie about being the type who journals for fun.

"I'm sorry..." I blink a few times. "You mean, I got the job?"

Mr. Graham doesn't answer right away, just stares—calm, too calm. Then slowly, the corner of his mouth lifts. Not a wide smile. More like someone who just found something interesting.

And somehow, that smile makes me even more nervous. Is this guy a former actor or something? Bro, don't smile like that. Feels like he's about to step out of the screen.

Yesterday, getting rejected made my whole world feel like it was collapsing. Like I was the most wronged person alive. Now, getting hired instantly is making me overthink even harder. God, what kind of drama is this now?

"You can come straight to the office tomorrow," Mr. Graham says with finality. "Eight sharp. Don't be even one minute late."

"B-but sir—"

"You're officially joining the Human Resources division," he cuts in smoothly, tapping his fingers once against the desk. "But before you meet the HR team to complete your paperwork, I want you to come to my office first. There are a few important things we need to discuss. Just the two of us."

Just the two of us? In his office? Okay, this is starting to feel off.

"As for salary and your special contract, I'll explain everything tomorrow in person. The amount will be adjusted based on the ability I see when we meet."

Ability? Which ability, exactly?

My brain sprints somewhere even Usain Bolt couldn't keep up with. No, Esther, don't think weird thoughts. But why is the CEO the one discussing contracts? Why does it have to be just the two of us, in his office?

Oh God, please tell me I didn't accidentally sign up for an actual job. Not sign up to become some rich guy's mistress. I am not ready to become a victim of a corporate concubine ring. Or—oh God—get shipped off somewhere to have my organs sold on the black market!!!

Nooo!!!!

No, Esther. Stop watching billionaire romance dramas. NOW. Or true crime. Just stop.

"See you tomorrow morning, Esther." Mr. Graham's calm voice cuts through my entire conspiracy theory.

The Zoom screen goes black. Call ended.

I'm still sitting on my bed. Frozen. Staring at my own reflection on the laptop screen, which has now become an impromptu mirror. My face is pale. Deathly pale. Like a corpse that hasn't realized yet that it's dead.

"Oh God..." I let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe I should bring pepper spray to the office tomorrow."

Then I think again.

"Or maybe just write my will instead."

Yeah. Whatever happens, I just need to show up tomorrow. No overthinking beforehand. You should be grateful, Esther. Besides, who knows—maybe there's someone out there whose life is even messier than mine.