In the waiting room, ten of the applicants are waiting including me.
The air felt thick and stale, like it had been sitting there for hours without moving. A cheap wall clock ticked too loudly above the door, each second scraping against my nerves. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, flickering just enough to make my eyes ache. Plastic chairs were lined against the walls, their cold surfaces pressing into my legs as I shifted for the fifth time in a minute.
One girl across from me kept tapping her foot rapidly, her shoe slapping softly against the floor. A guy in a wrinkled polo kept checking his phone, his jaw clenched, while another applicant stared blankly at the "Please Wait for Your Number" sign as if it might give him answers. Someone coughed. Someone else sighed. The whole room smelled faintly of coffee and dust.
While others were patiently waiting, I was screaming inside.
"ARGHHH!!! YOU IDIOT!!! WHY'D YOU SAY THAT????!!! YOUR RENT DUE IS NEXT WEEK FOR GOD SAKE'S AND YOU BLEW IT ALL, YOU HORNY BITCH!!!!"
The words crashed through my head like sirens, loud and relentless. My stomach twisted as heat rushed to my face, and I had to press my lips together to stop myself from making a sound. My hands curled into fists on my lap, nails biting into my palms as if I could punish myself without anyone noticing.
If only I'm alone, I already slapped myself. My thoughts are chaotic but I maintained a calm look outside.
On the surface, I sat straight with a neutral expression, pretending to read the notice board on the wall. Inside, my chest felt tight, my heart racing like I was being chased. I swallowed hard, forcing my breathing to stay even, hoping no one could see how close I was to falling apart.
The door to the interview room remained closed.
And with every second that passed, the ticking clock felt louder—counting down to whatever mistake I'd made… and whatever was waiting for me on the other side.
Then....
The interviewer came with the result.
"Yeah... I should apply to another company again..." I thought to myself, my stomach tightening with that familiar mix of dread and hope.
"Is Hannah Smith here?" the interviewer asked, scanning the room. "Come with me, you passed."
"Y-Yes, coming!" I said, my voice was steady enough, but inside, my brain was doing cartwheels.
Huhhhhhhh???!!! Did I hear it right?
I followed him down the narrow hallway, the polished floor reflecting the bright overhead lights. The hum of air conditioning and the faint scent of cleaning solution filled the air. My palms were slightly sweaty against the folder I clutched, my heart hammering like a drum. Every step felt unreal, like I was walking through a dream where everything was happening too fast.
He showed me around, pointing to different rooms and introducing me to a few passing employees with polite nods. "Your table will be located inside the CEO's office, as he needs updates every time." he explained, his tone casual but precise.
As we walked toward Sir Enzo's office, he began outlining my job responsibilities, but my mind was partly elsewhere—half dazzled by the idea of being that close to the CEO, half terrified of what was expected of me. I tried to nod along, memorize everything he said, but my thoughts were still buzzing with disbelief.
When we finally arrived, the sleek glass doors of the CEO's office loomed ahead. Inside, the polished mahogany desk and high-backed chair made the room feel intimidatingly important. The interviewer gave me a small nod and a polite smile.
Then he left, leaving me standing just outside the threshold.
Alone. Heart racing. Ready—or at least trying to be—for whatever was next.
I knock on the door.
The sound echoed louder than I expected, sharp against the quiet hallway. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it through the wood.
"Come in." His deep voice, that makes one's underwear drop called.
It rolled through me like a low vibration, sending a strange heat straight to my spine. I swallowed, gripping the doorknob tighter than necessary.
I opened the door and saw him standing next to the building's window.
The city lights behind him painted his silhouette in gold and shadow, the glass reflecting the tall outline of his figure. He looked calm, powerful—like he owned not just the office, but everything beyond the glass as well. The air inside felt warmer, heavier, as if it carried his presence.
"Thank you for picking me, Sir Enzo but.... I don't understand why." I asked.
My voice came out softer than I intended, barely above a breath. I stood stiffly, hands clasped in front of me, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.
I knew myself that I acted like an idiot, there's no way he'll pick me after that.
"Enzo. Just call me Enzo when we're alone." He said. "And for the reason..." He looked back and look at me. "I was quite interested in how you can make me 'happy and satisfied'." As he scanned my body. "Ha ha ha"
His gaze felt slow and deliberate, like it lingered just a second too long. My chest tightened, and my brain short-circuited.
"T-That..." Embarrassment just swallowed me. I don't know if he's playing with me or just enjoying seeing me embarrassed. "I will do my best, Sir Enzo!"
I bowed slightly out of reflex, trying to hide the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks.
He walked closer to me and tilted my head up to meet his gaze.
The distance between us disappeared in seconds. I could smell his cologne now—clean, expensive, dangerously distracting. My breath hitched when his fingers lifted my chin.
"I said, just call me Enzo, baby girl~" His voice was hot when he's so commanding.
It sent shivers straight through me, like every nerve in my body suddenly woke up.
At this point I just wanna get naked and throw myself to him. "Is he flirting with me????? Me???" Of course, why would I say no?
My heart was racing, my thoughts spinning wildly, every logical part of me losing the battle.
I nodded. "A-Alright, Enzo..." Just by saying his name stir something inside me. All I know is there's nothing appropriate in what my mind is imagining.
"Good girl." He said with a deep tone making my skin crawl.
My knees nearly gave out. My brain was screaming, my body doing the exact opposite of what it should.
"At this point, just claim me! Arghhhh!!! Focus!!!!" There's already a battle going inside my head, fighting the urge to throw myself to him and the urge to be professional.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stand straight again—trapped between desire and reality, knowing this was only the beginning of something dangerously complicated.