The morning light crept gently through the curtains, casting soft shadows across my room. I lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, my phone resting just out of reach on the nightstand. Every so often, I'd reach over, pick it up, and check again. No messages. No emails. Nothing.
The silence was heavy.
I tried not to let my mind wander to the worst-case scenario, but the quiet on my phone made it hard not to.
Maybe they decided not to pick me.
Maybe I wasn't good enough.
The minutes stretched slowly, each one making the hope inside me feel more fragile.
By mid-morning, I finally forced myself out of bed and got dressed. Sitting alone, waiting for an answer that might never come, was starting to feel pointless. I needed to do something — anything — just to quiet the restlessness clawing at my chest.
Still, the job lingered in the back of my mind like a thread I didn't want to tug too hard on. It wasn't just any job. It felt like a perfect chance — a rare window into a world I'd always watched from the outside. What better way to learn what it really takes to be a star than to stand beside one?
And if I was lucky — really lucky — maybe I could even ask them for advice. Help with my songs. Assuming they were the kind of artists who actually made their own music, maybe they'd understand. Maybe they'd listen. If they were professionals, surely they wouldn't mind helping out someone trying to find her footing... right?
Then again, I wasn't naïve. Celebrities aren't always what they seem. Some are known for being arrogant, impatient, closed off. I had to weigh the possibilities — the opportunity and the risk.
The mystery didn't help either. The job listing had been vague, deliberately so. Confidential. No names, no hints. That could only mean one thing: they were someone. Someone big. Someone people would recognize on sight. If the fans knew who they were, they'd flood the application in minutes. It made sense that they'd want to keep things quiet.
But still — the fact that they needed extra help? On top of the staff they must already have? That was the part that kept circling back in my mind. It was strange. Curious. A little bit thrilling.
Who were they?
And more importantly... why did it feel like the answer might actually change something?
Lately, my life felt like it had more questions than answers. Everything was slightly out of focus, like I was moving through fog.
There was the guy on the hill—the one who disappeared without a trace, no goodbye, no explanation. I never even knew his name. We'd only ever met under the stars, where the dark softened everything, even our faces. I doubt he could've picked me out in daylight either.
And now, this job. A confidential posting for an unnamed boy group. It all felt strange in a familiar way. I could've tried to connect the dots, but would it even make sense?
Maybe not. But the mystery clung to me, quietly.
By mid-morning, I finally got up and made myself get dressed. I couldn't keep lying in bed, stuck in a loop of overthinking. Waiting for a reply that might never come was starting to drain me. I needed to move, to be around people, even if just for a few hours.
Now that things were good again with my friends, I figured it was time to reach out. Maybe hanging out would help take the edge off this whole job mystery. Talking about it out loud—laughing about it, even—might make it feel less like some looming, unsolvable riddle.
So I sent a message:
Me:
Hey, you guys free today? It's time for me to leave my cave and spiral about mysterious boybands in person.
Camila: Yes, absolutely! I require bubble tea and conspiracy theories.
Yarin: Already emotionally invested in these men. Name a time!
Their replies came almost instantly, which made me smile. It was such a small thing, but it felt like movement. Like I was stepping out of that weird limbo I'd been stuck in.
We decided to meet in Camden—our usual bubble tea place tucked just off Inverness Street, near the market. Crowded, colorful, familiar.
For the first time all week, the day felt like it had some shape. Something to look forward to, even if the big answers were still out of reach.
I stood in front of my closet, pulling out a few dresses before settling on a simple white one. It wasn't anything flashy—just clean lines and a soft fabric that moved easily. The kind of dress that felt fresh, like a small statement of starting over.
To balance it out, I grabbed my black leather jacket from the hook by the door. The contrast between the soft white dress and the tough leather made me feel grounded—like I could handle whatever came my way today.
Looking in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of the changes I hadn't fully noticed until now. The weight I'd lost made the dress fall better on me, and the jacket added a bit of edge I didn't expect but liked. I smiled, feeling a small flicker of confidence settle in.
I slipped on my boots, grabbed my bag, and stepped outside. The spring air was warm but not too hot—just enough to make the breeze feel soft against my skin. The sun filtered through the budding trees lining the street, and cherry blossom petals drifted lazily around me like a quiet celebration of the season.
The city had that familiar energy—alive but calm.
When I got to the shop, the comforting buzz of conversation and the clink of cups welcomed me. The scent of sweet tea and tapioca filled the air. I spotted Camila and Yarin waving from a corner booth, their smiles bright and familiar.
I smiled back. It felt good to be here.
I slid into the booth, right where the afternoon sun hit just perfectly—warm, but not too bright. It felt good to be out, surrounded by friends instead of my own racing thoughts.
Camila grinned. "So, any updates on the mysterious boy band gig?"
I shook my head. "Nothing yet. No call, no email. I'm starting to think maybe it was just a long shot."
Yarin smirked. "Or maybe they're super secretive because it's a very famous group"
Camila's eyes lit up. "Oh, that'd be wild. Imagine getting to work with a group like that. The crazy schedules, the fans... the drama."
I laughed. "Right? But then again, who even needs extra help if they've got managers and assistants already? Unless they want someone low-key, invisible."
Yarin nodded. "Yeah, and they said confidential, so it's got to be someone big. No way they'd let just anyone near them."
Camila tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Could be a group on tour, maybe one that just landed here for a big show or something. They'd need someone to run errands, handle small stuff. No glam, just practical help."
I bit my lip. "That's what makes me nervous and curious at the same time. Who are they?"
Then Camila gave a smirk and said "Whoever they are, they must make bank considering they need so many people taking care of their preperations" We all laughed together considering all the details.
I took a sip of my drink, letting the sweetness settle in my mouth before I spoke again. I hadn't planned on bringing it up, not really. But something said that i would feel better after telling them the event that has been happening to me.
"There's actually... another weird thing," I said, fiddling with the edge of my straw wrapper.
Camila raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Yarin leaned in. "Go on."
I hesitated, then shrugged. "This is going to sound kind of strange. But there was this guy."
Camila blinked. "A guy?"
"Not like that," I clarified quickly. "I mean, kind of, but... not really."
That made them both lean back a little, giving me space to explain.
Yarin's face softened. "That sounds kind of intriguing."
"It was," I admitted. "But also... vague. It was always dark, no streetlamps up there. Just stars. I don't even think he saw my face properly—it was too dark. And I couldn't really make out his either because he wore a mask. That's part of what makes it so surreal now. One night he just... stopped showing up. No message, no sign. He disappeared."
"Okay, now it's sound king of creepy" Yarin said with concern.
Camila tilted her head. "You didn't have a way to contact him?"
I shook my head. "Not really. I don't know his name, and he never shared any personal information with me. I only have his Instagram, but he hasn't been active in the conversation and always gave me short answers that didn't really explain anything. Everything about him was always so strange and mysterious."
We sat in silence for a moment, each of us sipping our drinks. I didn't say it aloud, but part of me had always wondered if I imagined some of it—if that strange, glowing calm was just in my head. Or maybe I'd projected meaning onto something that wasn't meant to last.
"And now," I continued more quietly, "with this job... it's like that same strange energy is back. Like something's shifting again, but I don't know where it's going."
Yarin tapped her cup. "Okay, but—hear me out. What if it is connected?"
Camila blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Yarin said, eyes narrowing playfully, "the secrecy. The timing. The whole 'mysterious boy group' and this guy who vanished without a trace? What if they're not separate at all?"
Camila let out a low, dramatic gasp. "Stop. Now I'm picturing some undercover celebrity having midnight chats on a hill before vanishing back into fame."
I rolled my eyes, laughing. "You two are ridiculous."
But even as we joked, the thought hung in the air. Ridiculous or not, I couldn't quite shake the feeling either.
Just as Camila was about to launch into a theory involving hidden identities and secret songwriting credits, my phone buzzed on the table beside me.
We all paused. It was just a quiet vibration — but in that second, I felt my stomach tighten, almost like muscle memory. I glanced down, expecting another random promotion or junk email.
But then I saw it.
Subject: NOVA TALENT — Application Update
From:
My breath caught.
"Oh my god," I said, sitting up straighter.
Camila leaned in instantly. "What? What happened?"
"It's— It's them," I said, tapping to open the message with slightly trembling fingers.
The screen loaded slowly, like it knew I was holding my breath.
_________________________________________________________________
Hi Seline,
Thank you for applying to our recent posting for a temporary team support assistant.
After reviewing your application, we're happy to inform you that you've been selected to move forward to the next stage.
This includes a short in-person interview and informal discussion at our temporary location in London:
NOVA Talent Office (Pop-Up)
Level 1, 14 Hawley Crescent
Camden, NW1 8NP
London
Your interview has been tentatively scheduled for:
Monday at 14:00
You'll receive more information upon confirmation. Please reply within 24 hours to accept the interview slot.
We look forward to meeting you.
— The NOVA Talent Team
___________________________________________________________
I stared at it, rereading the lines once, twice.
"I got through," I said slowly. "They want me to come in. For an interview."
Camila let out a little gasp. "No way."
Yarin's eyes went wide. "Holy— Okay, now it's real. This is real!"
I nodded, barely hearing them as I read the address again. Hawley Crescent. Just around the corner from here.
"They're literally just down the street," I murmured.
Camila practically bounced in her seat. "We need to prep you. Like, immediately."
Yarin grinned. "I guess this may be the answer to all your prayers."
I finally smiled, slow but real. "Guess I've got an interview to prepare for."
The mystery wasn't solved yet, but for the first time, I was stepping closer to the answer.
We left the café the moment we saw the email. Camila and Yarin had immediately declared that I needed a new outfit—something that would not only fit the job but seal the deal. According to them, if I dressed like I already belonged, the interview wouldn't stand a chance.
The city greeted us with its usual the afternoon light. Camden was buzzing—music from street performers floating through the air, and bold shopfronts bursting with the latest trends in every shade and shape.
Camila led the way with laser focus, already scanning windows like she was on a runway mission. "We need something that says future industry icon."
Yarin bumped me lightly with her shoulder. "No pressure."
I laughed, breath catching slightly as I tried to keep pace with them—and my thoughts. "Right. Just a career-defining interview. Totally chill."
The first shop we entered was all clean lines and curated silence. Neutral tones hung from gold racks, the kind of place where each hanger looked like it had been styled for a magazine shoot. And the price tags? Sharp enough to draw blood.
Camila reached for a pale beige wrap dress. "This is nice. Simple, elegant."
"Elegant and £230," I whispered.
Yarin shot me a look and grinned. "Camila forgets we don't all get influencer discount codes."
We wandered through more stores, pulling items and holding them up, only to shake our heads each time.
Then we stumbled into a quiet boutique tucked between a vinyl shop and a vintage bookstore. It had soft lighting, mellow music, and racks full of pieces that looked like they were meant to be worn to rooftop showcases or off-the-record press events. Instantly, we knew—we were in the right place.
Camila stopped short in front of a mannequin. "Okay. This."
It was a soft, slate-blue jumpsuit. The waist cinched just right, and the fabric flowed down into slightly flared legs. The neckline dipped into a structured V—polished but with a hint of edge. It didn't shout, but it spoke volumes. Confident. Understated. Unapologetically mine.
I raised a brow. "You really think so?"
Yarin gave a small nod. "Absolutely. And it's your favorite color."
I smiled, stepping closer. "Can't argue with that."
I stared at it for a long moment, trying to imagine myself walking into the NOVA Talent office wearing it. It wasn't flashy, but it hit every note I imagined they were looking for. Capable. Creative. Structured and Confident.
I guess this was it — new dress, new job.
Or at least, the chance at one.