Lovestruck

"

We've found one new job for you! Let's give it a try."

I read the email in disdain, before looking away from my phone. How many more? I've tried my best, but nothing's working. Every day, I receive hundreds of emails informing me about various job offers and I apply to most of them too. Then what? Just wait and wait for a reply that never comes. I'm exhausted now.

Shutting my laptop, I lie back down in bed as I let my mind wander in the confounded mess of my life.

If my parents were alive today, I wouldn't have to seek employment like a vagabond when I haven't even finished my studies yet. Being a junior in college, finding a job is harder than searching for a rock in the deep of the Atlantic.

Uncle Rob, my father's elder brother, has been looking after me since my dad died when I was in 8th grade. And it seems like by now, he's also gotten tired of seeing my face. He can't say it out loud— responsibilities fend off, but I understand all.

Grunting in annoyance, I sit back up again before opening my laptop. Maybe spending my life being loath of my uncle's eyes and running after a job called mirages is my destiny.

While taking a look at the jobs, suddenly one catches my eye where the requirements show the candidate has to be experienced in at least one business field. I tap on the headline and a website opens.

It says they're looking for interns to work for their corporate office in New York for six months. And then the most qualified ones will get a chance to be approved for a permanent position in the office. Their merchandise expands into different fields such as hotels, restaurants, shopping malls, etc.

I take a closer look at the company's name, "Falcon".

Do they yield birds or what? Never mind, my jokes are worse than dad jokes…

They want someone from a business background, and I'm literally studying business studies. Well, what now? Let's give it a shot…

✿✿✿✿✿

I look up at the blue-colored skyscraper in wonder, standing in front of the main entrance.

I've worn a white shirt underneath a blue blazer and the same colored pencil skirt, with my hair rolled into a ponytail. There's no crease, but still, I move my hand over my dress once more as I make my way inside.

The lobby is so gorgeously designed that I can't help but take a proper look. The rooftop is made of laminated glass and the comb walls are golden. There are a few trees scattered around, mostly dumb canes. As I carefully put my feet on the marble floor that's slippery as hell and start heading toward the receptionist, I feel my heartbeat rising.

God, I need this job.

I greet the receptionist woman dressed up in all black with a smile, "Hello. I'm here to give an interview for the internship project."

She smiles back, "Hello. The interview is taking place on the sixth floor. The elevator is that way, and good luck!"

I flash her a polite smile before muttering thanks as I turn and follow the way she told me. After tapping on the elevator button, I wait for a while. When the door slides open, I'm about to step inside when I see a group of people already in the lift. There are two women and a man behind, and the tall man dressed in a navy-blue suit standing before them seems like someone prominent. I take a brief look at him and I must admit— with the brownish black hair, fair skin, and well-sculpted face; he's quite handsome. I can't see his eyes as they're covered in bluish sunglasses.

Realizing I've been staring for a bit too long, I hurriedly step aside as all of them get out of the elevator and I get inside. Turning, I press the number six and before the door closes, I catch a glimpse of the suited guy leaving through the glass door.

I wonder who he is! Might be a businessman or something renowned. I guess that is because his aura screams power.

But that's not the case. I have an interview now, and I have to pay attention to it. Right now, not good-looking guys— money matters to me the most.

✿✿✿✿✿

I press the doorbell a few times until I hear Aunt Gracie's voice, and soon the door opens. She's a wonderful woman in her forties— strawberry-blonde hair, pale skin, green eyes; just the perfect combination. If anyone in this house can stand me a little, maybe more than just a little— that's her.

She smiles, sees me, and asks, "How was the interview, Evie?"

I smile back, a tired one. "It went okay."

As I go inside and take off my heels, I put them in the right place before moving into the drawing room.

"They said that if I'm selected, they'll let me know by tomorrow," I add, sitting down on the couch.

She comes and sits by me, placing a hand on my back. "I hope it goes well. You've been working too hard, I'm a witness. And hard work pays off. Let's hope for the best."

"Thank you, auntie. You're so kind to me, always. I owe you a lot." I say, meaning every word.

It's weird how sometimes people with whom you are connected by blood can't tolerate you. Whereas the ones you have no blood relationship with, just a distant relative or maybe even a stranger, shows you the kind of affection you've always yearned to receive from your close ones.

I strongly believe these words— you bond a connection yourself, you aren't born with it.

✿✿✿✿✿

I'm currently lying in my bed in my own room on the second floor. It's really a small one. A single bed, a study table, a wardrobe on the opposite side, and a vintage dressing table consisting of the whole area. At least, I've decorated it of my choice.

The wall behind the bed has a series of colorful butterflies scraped onto it, while the others along with the ceiling have numerous glow-in-the-dark stickers. Some are moon shaped, but most of them are stars. On the doorway, I've hung a showpiece with medium-length iron handles. When wind strikes them, they create a low jingling harmony. At night, when I open the windows for the wind to come and turn off the lights— this room feels like my own little heaven.

No matter how hard my life is, I always try to make myself happy with these pretty little things. And they indeed work. I feel happy and at those moments, life really feels worthy.

My parents' advice, after all, they can never fail.