The Violet
It was 2007 in the streets of New Jersey.
Cars buzzed through the streets while birds flew freely across the bright blue sky. Men and women hurried along the sidewalks, dressed in suits and ties as if they were all heading to important business meetings.
Among them was a man named Jamal. He wore a suit with a loosely untied tie, and his blond hair was slightly messy. He kept glancing at the watch on his wrist, muttering under his breath.
"Oh, shit... shit. What time is it? I'm going to be late."
He ran as if his life depended on it—and, in a way, it did.
After all, he had spent his entire life dreaming about this very moment.
As he reached the crosswalk, the traffic light suddenly turned green, and cars rushed past him. He had no choice but to wait until the light turned red.
But he couldn't wait.
This meant everything to him. It had meant everything ever since he was a teenager.
Finally, the light turned red.
He sprinted across the road.
Standing before him was a towering building with the words The Wolf of Wall Streets engraved above the entrance. Before stepping inside, he looked up at the enormous building, wondering how many windows it had... and where his office would be if he got the job.
As he entered, a receptionist greeted him.
"Good afternoon, sir. How can I assist you?"
she asked in a calm, steady voice.
"Good day, ma'am. I'm here for an interview."
Jamal replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Hmm... let's see... Jamal... Jamal... Jamal Brown, right?"
she asked while searching on her laptop.
"Yes, ma'am. That's me."
"Your interview is in Room 6."
she said with a smile.
"Thank you."
Jamal replied warmly.
He rushed toward the stairs, but the receptionist quickly stopped him.
"Um, sir, you'll get lost down there. Why don't you take the elevator instead?"
"Oh my gosh... thanks again, Miss..."
"Johnson. Miss Johnson."
she answered.
Jamal headed toward the elevator and stepped inside. He pressed the button for the sixth floor.
The elevator was crowded with staff members. Jamal kept biting his nails as his nervous eyes scanned the room.
When he finally reached the sixth floor, he hurried to Room 6.
It was empty.
Then he caught a glimpse of the interviewer leaving his office.
The man wore a perfectly pressed suit with a red tie. His hair was neatly combed, and a pair of glasses rested on his face. He was already walking toward the elevator.
"Wait, sir!"
Jamal called out.
The interviewer turned around and adjusted his glasses.
"You're Jamal, right?"
he asked.
"Yes, sir. I am. I just wanted to—"
"Well, Mr. Jamal, you're late, and I have no time for people like you. Perhaps try another company next time."
The interviewer stepped into the elevator.
Those words shattered something inside Jamal.
He couldn't say it was hope...
But it was something.
Just before the elevator doors closed, the interviewer looked back one last time.
"Next time, try to be more respectful of other people's time, Mr. Jamal."
Those were his last words.
Jamal slowly fell to his knees and stared at his trembling hands.
Tears filled his eyes before spilling down his face. He cried uncontrollably on the office floor.
After several minutes, he stood up, wiped away his tears, and tried to compose himself.
He entered the elevator alone and pressed the G button.
On his way out, he passed Miss Johnson before finally leaving the building.
He walked away with nothing...
Only sadness.
It felt as though something inside him had shattered into countless pieces.
As he made his way home, his head remained lowered.
Then...
He heard a violin playing in the distance.
The music came from a small restaurant filled with businesspeople sipping expensive wine and celebrating their success.
And then he saw her.
A young woman in a flowing red dress.
She was a brunette.
Her hands moved gracefully across the violin, and every note she played seemed to understand Jamal better than he understood himself.
Drawn by the melody, he slowly walked toward the restaurant.
He placed his hand against the rain-speckled glass...
As the rain began to fall.
To Be Continued...
