I wiped my sweaty palms on the fabric of my skirt and breathed in. It was getting difficult to calm myself down. Instead, I stared at the small building in front of me. It definitely wasn't grand. It was pretty ordinary and that was something. I was normal too. Just like everyone else. I tugged out my phone lazily as if waiting for something to stop me from going past the doors of the company. Two more minutes till my interview. I bite my bottom lip and step inside, feeling the cold breeze of air conditioning. Somehow, that makes me feel better. I see a janitor vacuuming the carpeted grounds. He's wearing headphones, his head shaking from side to side. In an act of courage and kindness, I wave.
In surprise, I watch him scoff. "This place is a hell hole, lady. Worst place to work." The words make my cheeks warm, a habit I've always had. I decide to ignore his words. He was a custodian. It wasn't like I was taking his job anyway. With a small smile in his direction, I head into an elevator and click on the highest floor, listening to the familiar dings of passing by levels. When I make it there, my knees feel like they are ready to melt and leave from the rest of my body but I move on. Open the door the place I was going to be interviewed at. I pull at my shirt and try to remove any last minute wrinkles from my clothes. Before I know it, a man beckons me inside.
[]
Well, this isn't a roller coaster for me. I was used to looking for jobs because I was used to losing them in the first place. Mind you, some of them aren't my fault. The rest, I can say honestly, could have resulted from my attitude or the work ethic I lacked. I was lucky to find this job. Easy enough and a quick drive to get there. I don't bother to straighten my tie. Sure, I was wearing a suit but people hardly bothered with their clothes to begin with. I don't think I'm that nervous. At least, my heart isn't beating fast. And my fingers aren't shaking. I drum my hands against my lap as I wait for a call. I can see workers typing away on their computers and devices. Some of them are talking to one another. A few are printing sheets out. What a boring occupation. But it was better than nothing. And that's what I had.
I scale through my hair and try to make it look presentable. My mom always nagged me about cutting it but I was stubborn to the bone. I check the time from the clock hanging awkwardly on the wall to my side. Three minutes past my set date for the interview. My eyebrows knit and I wonder why the boss hasn't seen me yet. In bewilderment and worry, I start to think that he might have checked my track record. I cringe. Nobody would hire me if they looked at that. I groan a little and place my head down. This was going to be a long day.
[]
I sit down on the small, black chair and try to get as comfortable as possible. The man in front of me doesn't look intimidating but he's pretty weird to me. He gives me a grin, kiddish and genuine. He looks to be in his mid-thirties with an asian face and a tan complexion. He squints at his computer then glances at me. "Clarissa Fray, am I correct?"
I nod, not trusting my voice not to crack. He seems to notice my anxiety and hands me a cup of water. "Don't worry. You'll be fine." I don't understand what he means but his words fill me with an odd reassurance and my shoulders slowly relax to a better position.
"Alright. My name is Magnus Bane. You can address me as 'your majesty' or 'your highness'." I gawk and my lips part in shock and bemusement. I try not to look amazed but it was getting difficult with the way he was studying me.
He laughed. "I was kidding, biscuit. Lighten up. Okay. Now that we've got the pleasantries taken care of, let's get down to business." He takes a file from inside his desk and opens it. I can't see what he's observing but I hope it's my reccommendations from other jobs of the past. I had a pretty good record.
"Brown University, eh?" He sounds impressed and I take that as a good sign.
"Yea." I squeak. "I studied business and art."
He purses his lips and could see the handsomeness of his face in its entirety. He wasn't old. He just appeared like he was carrying a lot lately. My eyes sweep downwards, to the bracelets on his wrists. They're colorful and glittery. I can't read the words on them. I wonder what they mean.
"And your previous manager, Luke Garroway, says you are an excellent worker. Durable and able to adapt to nearly any change." I hadn't realized Luke had said that. The compliment leaves me nervous with anticipation. I remind myself to give him a call of thanks when I have the time and check up on him.
I don't really reply because I'm unsure of what to say. He asks me my hobbies and skills. The best environment I prefer to work at. I answer honestly and hope this is going well. This was my first official job anyway. The things I had done before didn't amount to this. I loosen up my fists and fold them neatly on my lap.
He rises to his feet. He looks commanding in that stance. He beams, wide and true. "Well, buscuit, you've got the job." And it seems like everything has clicked. I remember rushing to him as he held out his hand for me to take but I hugged him instead. He makes a noise that sounds like 'oof' to my ears but I'm too busy celebrating in my mind to notice. I let him go, embarrassment finally setting in. I leave as soon as possible because he looks so amused as if he's trying to hold in a laugh.
I exit his office, a card in my hand. My feet hit the ground lightly and I pass the hall, meeting the gaze of a guy sitting on a chair, lazily situated. I'm so happy and glad that I grin at him. He's here for a job too, I can tell. "You'll do fine. Good luck." My voice was quiet and low, only for him to hear.
He swiped his hair from his forehead. He doesn't look too worried. "Thanks." And I leave, for a moment, hoping that he gets hired too.
[]
The clock was ticking the hell out of me. I stomp my foot harder into the ground. It's ten minutes after my adjusted time. What the hell was going on in there? To be honest, I'm pretty anxious. Was the boss talking about me? Did something happen with my information? Angry thoughts keep erupting in my head and I try desperately to push them away just as the door creaks open and reveals a short, red-headed girl. She's smiling stupidly, her cheeks crimson and her freckles almost glowing in the daylight.
She sees me sitting and finally notices my presence. To my astonishment, her lips curl upwards and she looks at me like she knows me. She wishes me good luck and something tightens inside of me. I watch her and without thinking, thank her, then hear the elevator's piercing ding as she leaves. I wonder if she works here. If she does, I've got my work cut out for me. "Jace Herondale?" I listen to the secretary's call.
Sighing, I stand and trudge to the office, praying to whatever was up in the sky so I could get a damn job already.
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[a/n] I own nothing but the plot. Loosely based off of the hit, American television show: the office. Obviously, I own nothing. Thanks. Review.