25,26,27,29—30! Look away!
I snap my eyes to the empty white wall behind him. Gripping my skirt tightly, I breathe out deeply and close my eyes. That was way too close. I didn't know an interviewer would be such a good talker.
"Ms. Hani-?"
I quickly flutter my eyes open and focus on him. No. Not the eyes! I shift my gaze to his forehead—right between his eyebrows.
"Are you okay?" he asks, concern visible in the way the skin around his eyebrows wrinkles.
I can feel everyone looking at me. Some even sigh, flipping through their empty notes.
"Yes!" I spit out.
Sweat beads trail down my neck. I'm not sure if it's because of the unusually hot room or the anxiety building up inside me. I should've already gotten used to this. This is my twentieth interview since graduating from university. And yet, I can never beat the anxiety.
The interviewer chuckles. "Ms. Hani, your resume is impressive for an graduate. We're finished for now, but I'm sure we'll see each other soon." he says, closing his notebook.
My eyes would've had shimmered with hope with his words, if this was my first time hearing it. The corners of my lips lift anyway, "Thank you." I reply.
My face brighter than the inner workings of my insides. I stand up, grab my bag, and leave the interview room. Less hopeful than before, eyes glued to the floor. What's the point of having great resume, if I can't get anywhere with it? "...It's a waste of time..." I quietly utter, stopping in front of the elevators.
"What's a waste of time?" A voice suddenly appears beside me.
I turn my head and almost look into his eyes. Between the eyebrows, I remind myself. But I can't help checking him out.
He's well-dressed—head to toe. A fitted suit. A sparkly watch. Shoes so shiny, I could see my own reflection.
"Are you...coming in?" He holds his hand between the elevator doors.
Was I staring so intensely that I didn't even notice him walk inside? Silence takes over as my thoughts wander.
"Are you?" He repeats, this time glancing at the people next to him.
"Oh—yeah." I clear my throat, gather myself, and hurry inside. "Thank you." I glance at him.
I must've made him uncomfortable. What a mess, I cry out in my head.
Looking down at the floor, I notice my heels. Deep red. Sexy is the new work attire or that's what my friend said after FaceTiming her. In my opinion, it's not sexy—just fitted. I actually think I look my best today. My dark brown hair is styled in soft waves. I paired my black skirt with a black shirt—okay, maybe it's slightly too dark for an interview, but I wanted to stand out while still blending into the company's style.
After all, I would love to wear a fit like this one at a courtroom. But first, I need to get a job. I trail my fingers over my ID, hanging down from my neck. I can't help but feel a tug in my chest. I just wish one day, I can get a proper one.
"What floor?" The same voice appears again and I turn my attention to him.
"Excuse me?" I reply.
"I noticed you didn't tap any of the buttons," he says, pointing. "And you haven't left like everyone else."
I glance around. He's right—it's just us.
I quickly tap my floor.
"First floor? Leaving in the middle of your job?" He asks.
Good looking or not, he definitely doesn't hold back his curiosity.
"I'm-," Wait, job?!
Does he think I'm working here? I flip my ID quickly. "Have you seen me before?" I ask.
He looks at me, making my heart race. Sweat forms instantly. He studies me with an unreadable expression—or maybe I just can't read it. Just his eyebrows.
"No," he finally says. "You must be one of the interviewees." he says, turning his head back to the doors.
Stupid. Why did I ask him?
The elevator chimes, but it's not my floor—it's the parking level. Probably his. He steps out, then turns his head back before the doors close.
"See you soon, Black Swan."
The doors shut.
Black swan...? Black swan? Who—me?
I turn toward my reflection in the elevator mirror. Black outfit—I could understand. But black swan? I sigh at my own expression. Am I really letting a stranger get a reaction out of me?
The doors open and people start flooding, forcing my back against the mirror. Suddenly, a hand grabs my arm and pulls me out. My shoulders jolt as I stumble forward.
"Sorry! Did that hurt? I pulled you hard, didn't i? I just saw you-."
I immediately remove my hands from my shoulder. It hurts but not enough to make someone feel bad because they helped me. Swallow the pain, Hani.
"It's okay. Thank you—really. I did get stuck," I say, then look up—and instantly get blinded.
How am I supposed to find her eyebrows with all this light radiating off her? Forget about counting to thirty seconds, my mind is completely fried now. My bag slips from my hands as I shield my eyes. If I'm the Black Swan, this must be the White Swan. Lights out, ref! Lights out!
"Here." She hands me my bag, pulling me back to the reality.
"Oh—thanks." My eyes stay glued to her.
Her red hair turns golden under the sunlight behind her. Her white outfit—she's breathtaking. An ID lanyard rests against her chest.
A prosecutor?
"Hani?" she asks. "Did I read it right?"
I nod, stunned. "I'm Anna." She extends her hand.
I shake it—and nearly melt. Her skin is impossibly soft.
"Well, Hani," she laughs, "you're going to have to let go so I can leave."
I glance down. I'm still holding her hand.
I pull back immediately, clasping my hands behind me and stepping aside.
She smiles and passes me, her fragrance hitting my face like a tornado—sweet, peachy. Am I in heaven? I watch as she presses the elevator button, feeling like creep. I quickly turn away.
I head toward the exit—but freeze.
The sky is dark, furious. I glance at myself, then back outside. I remember checking the forecast—it wasn't supposed to rain. No jacket. No umbrella.
I'm doomed.
"Miss! You can't be standing here!" a man yells.
I shift my gaze to him. He's wearing a security guard vest. "But it's raining... Can you just wait till I get a taxi?" I plead.
He shakes his head. "I'm sure you know why companies are strict about this nowadays. Go inside or go out."
I glance at the doors and remember they all have keypad door locks. "But—but if I leave I can't go come back inside."
"No can do, Miss. I'm sorry."
I bite my lip and glance back outside. It doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon. I glance back at my bag. It's new and it cost me so much—ridiculous amount for a basic black briefcase. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I pull the bag over my chest, trying to cover it with my arms. "I don't wanna go." I utter as I force myself out.
For a one last time, I glance back and watch as the doors close, the keyboards staring back at me. My eyes shift to the security guard who's already busy talking with someone else.
The rain doesn't touch me—not yet. I still have roof over my head. But in couple steps, I'll be showered. I turn around and face the gray sky, waiting for me to confront. Pawing the ground, I exhale. I take my stand and run out. Rain, please don't touch my bag! I pray—but it's useless. The rain hits me instantly. I can feel the rain dripping down my soaked clothes, my waves flattened against my face and neck as my heels splash through the puddles.
Then—an abrupt stop.
A hand grabs my shoulder and spins me around. Eyebrows— I tried to remind myself but their whole face is covered with a black helmet. I shut my eyes, not knowing where to look. In this moment, just standing under the rain sounds better without the additional: kissing a stranger under it.
Suddenly, warmth. A jacket drapes over me. I try lift my head before an heavy helmet is settles over my head. They grab my bag, letting it hang on their wrist while they put my arms between the jacket and I can't help but feel like kid. But I know this person. I recognize their neck and the necklace it wears. "—Kayse?"
He straightens his back after putting the jacket on me properly and flips his visor up. Finally, I know where to look.
"Too late." He says, walking away and puts my bag inside his top box.
He mounts his motorcycle seat and signals me to go sit behind him. My body moves before my brain does. I wrap my hands around his waist, tightly. And the sound of engine roaring takes over my hearing.
I rest my head on his back, tightening my grip. The high pitched whine drowns the fight between the strong wind and the heavy rain. I close my eyes and let my hair dance with the air.
Kayse. My heaven sent angel. Always there when I need him.
What felt forever, quickly ended. Faster than I expected. We stop in front of my apartment building. I look around, confused.
"Why are we here?" I ask, not letting go of his waist.
He doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. As if he was paused in time. I finally let go and jump off. That's when he finally moves, turning his head to my way.
"Go inside."
I look around but this isn't the place. Of course, it isn't—"So, why are we here?" I ask again.
But he doesn't reply. It's like he can't even hear me.
He flips down the little metal leg and stands up from the seat. He walks over to me. His shirt glued to his lean body. He leans down on my eye-level and our helmet's almost touch. Even after wearing five inch heels, he still hovers over me. I'm annoyed. He flips his visor up, revealing his eyes. Look away! I warn myself. I start gazing at our surroundings—everything except him. I can't even risk looking at his eyebrows. My eyes will always end finding his. He straightens his back and crosses his arms, before grabbing me from my shoulders and turning me around. He pushes me forward and I follow his guidance without wanting to. We walk until we reach the door. I put my hands inside the pockets so that I wouldn't have to put the code in but it's like he doesn't even expect me to. He puts the code and opens the door, pushing me until I'm inside the elevator and quickly taps the button to my floor. I turn around. Everything is happening so fast. "Kayse, what about—?" I try to protest but it's too late. The elevator doors are already closing.
I blink like a stupid doll. "Our tradition...?" I whisper.
I turn my attention towards the screen-like panel. The numbers on it shifting with every two seconds. I'm already on the fifth floor.
It takes a while until the door chimes and opens. I leave the elevator, dragging my legs to my apartment door. Instinctively, I try to reach for my bag—but there's no bag. I lower my head and notice my empty hands— "My bag?!" I exclaim, putting my hands over my head.
But something is different—hard. I'm still wearing Kayse's helmet. No wonder. For a second there I thought I became numb but now I'm sure, I've lost it. Who could mistake a heavy black helmet for their own head? But this is good—this is amazing. I have an excuse to go back now. I immediately run back towards the elevator and push the button. Ugh, this is great! How could he even forget? I think to myself as I tap the polished, marble floor with my feet.
I look around, trying to calm my racing heart. I wonder if the tensions from all the intense interviews I've been to have finally damaged my nervous system. I stare at the white walls, decorated with paintings. Everything about this carpeted corridor screams timeless, elegant, modern—expensive. Too expensive. The only reason why I got the chance to live here was because of the floor my apartment is on.
I stare up at the panel, checking what floor the elevator is. But instead of going up, it's heading down. I tap the floor harder with my feet. Now, it's going to take even longer. Kayse is probably gone already. I cross my arms and sigh. At times like this I'm reminded of why people didn't move here. No difference, my ass. I knew I should have just stuck with my student housing plan. But then I remember the spoiled—rotten smell—so nauseating, I can still smell it. I don't know whether the trash bags queued up against my door or the sound of someone trying to unlock my room door at night—while I'm sleeping is worse. No—I prefer this. I get a 1.400 square feet soundproof apartment with a beautiful balcony and no roommates making me question my will to live. "Exactly! That's the mindset you need, Hani." I reply to myself, the corners of my lips raising.
But then why—why is frustration growing inside my body as I stare the panel, not moving—stuck at the number one? Why isn't the elevator leaving the ground floor?