Chapter 7: Chapter 7

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The alarm's blaring yanks me out of the lovely dream I was having. The one that I no longer remember its contents.

I groan, slapping hard on my phone like it's a mosquito. My face feels like it's been shrink-wrapped, thanks to the 'spa-grade' face mask Rachel insisted on last night.

The next thing I hear is Rachel's voice, way too loud and energetic for this ungodly hour.

"Rise and shine, superstar! Time to go change the world with your brilliance!" She bursts into my room, holding a tray with coffee and badly burnt toast. 

She's already dressed, her hair perfectly curled, and she looks like she's been awake for hours.

I groan, shutting back my eyes. "Five more minutes. I need to pray"

She sets the tray on my nightstand and laughs that wicked laugh of hers "Nuh uh. That's what you said last year, and ended up sleeping extra two hours, while I was waiting for you like a damn fool" She smacks my arm. "Five minutes my ass. Do you know what today is?

I smirk. Those were good times. 

I burrow deeper into my blanket. "Judgment day?"

Rachel rips the covers off me. "Close. Interview day! Now get your ass up, and don't make me repeat myself "

"Ugh. Why are you like this?" I mumble, getting up and peeling the mask off.

"Because I want you to succeed in life" she says, bringing the tray to my laps. "Now, eat. We've got less than two hours before you need to leave"

I rub my eyes "I'll have just the coffee"

She looks at the toast she screwed up, nodding "Uh... Totally understandable. I'll get you some left over cake" 

She takes the plate of bread and leaves. I chuckle at her cuteness.

Seconds later, shes back with a generous piece of our Lemon Drizzle cake. Perfect.

I take the first bite, and it literally melts in my mouth "Don't you think I need to open the bakery first?"

She deadpans. "Excuse me?"

I shrug "Just to make a few pastries..."

"Absolutely not." She points a finger at me. "Do you want flour and butter fumes to ruin the facial? No"

Then, with a mischievous glint, she continues "Or I can take make the pastries and take care of the bakery for you today"

Aw, hell nah.

"No, thanks. The Bakery can do without opening for a day"

She smirks "Thats the spirit"

I roll my eyes and finish up my breakfast. 

Rachel's in full drill sergeant mode, and arguing is pointless. 

•••••

Two hours later, I'm standing in front of Valentus Technologies, and my jaw is somewhere on the sidewalk. The pictures don't do justice.

The building is insane.

It's a monolith of glass and steel, stretching so high it looks like it's trying to poke a hole in the sky. It's at least sixty floors, sitting right in the heart of Manhattan. 

Yes I counted. 

The massive Valentus Technologies logo gleams in silver at the top, looking down at me like some divine corporate deity. Sheesh.

The entrance is a giant, arched doorway made entirely of black glass, with golden sensor panels instead of your typical traditional doors. 

I watch as people simply walk up, and the doors slide open automatically, scanning them with a soft blue light.

Jeez. Their doors are probably smarter than me.

I swallow hard. Definitely do not belong here.

But it's too late to turn back now.

My suit is literally the only thing giving me any bit of courage. Summoning every ounce of minuscular confidence I have, I move forward.

As soon as I step inside, I'm hit with a blast of cool, crisp air, and a faint, clean scent that just screams 'we have a cleaning staff that polishes the air molecules'. The air alone probably costs more than my student loans.

The lobby is like something out of a sci-fi movie.

The floors are polished black marble, so shiny I can see my reflection staring back at me, asking me what the hell I'm doing here.

At the center of the room is a huge cylindrical hologram displaying rotating 3D advertisements of Valentus' latest tech innovations—Smart devices that probably do your taxes while you sleep, cutting-edge AI and gadgets so advanced I'm pretty sure they're just making stuff up at this point. Things I don't even understand!

I feel like a peasant in the elite's utopia.

A sharply dressed woman at the front desk looks up, and I swear, she's so stunning I momentarily forget what I was here for. Am I a lesbian now?

"Good morning. How may I help you?" she shoots me a lovely smile.

Her skin is so smooth it looks airbrushed, her lips are the kind of red that makes you question your life choices, and her blonde hair is curled so perfectly, it probably has its own Instagram account. 

I instinctively touch my auburn tresses, which looks like I styled it with a blender this morning.

For Pete's sake, if the employees are this enchanting, how am I supposed to keep up? 

I half expect her to hand me a brochure titled 'You Don't Belong Here: A Beginner's Guide'.

I shake out my thoughts, and reply with a small voice "I'm here for the Interview"

"Oh. You're here early."

I nod mutely. 

She scans me with her tablet, then hands me a thin, white card, with nothing on it but 'Jessica Reed' in cursive. Fancy.

"Scan this at the elevator. It will take you to the interview floor, then just follow the instructions on the card"

What... instructions?

I just nod like a bobblehead, taking the card with slightly sweaty fingers.

Walking to the elevators, I find no buttons, just a sleek panel. I scan my card, and the screen displays: Interview Level – 25

The doors slide open, and I step into what can only be described as a spaceship masquerading as an elevator. No buttons inside either, just a blank screen and a big red emergency thingy.

Stepping out, I see a maze of hallways, each labeled with numbers. Confused on where to go next, I check my card for 'instructions', and the once-blank surface now displays a hallway number and a little arrow pointing the way.

Speechless.

•••••

Damn Rachel for insisting I come super early. In her words, "You have to be there even before the cleaners begin work. I once saw a movie where the guy was hired just because he was the first to arrive"

Girl, bye.

Anyway, so here I am in the waiting room, and of course, I'm the first to arrive. The room is so minimalist it feels like a museum exhibit titled 'Corporate Anxiety: A Study in White'. Plush white chairs, white walls, white floors. 

Gosh, it's like they're trying to make sure no one spills coffee and ruins the aesthetic. I sit down stiffly, cracking my knuckles

Minutes later, people start arriving. 

And by people, I mean a parade of human perfection-crisp suits, designer bags, and confidence levels so high I clutch my suit tighter for mine.

These are not normal job seekers. Or is this part of my interview?

They look polished, flawless, and... rich? Designer suits, luxury bags, the list by goes on.

I decide to break the ice with the guy next to me. "Hi, I'm Jessica."

"Mark," he says, shaking my hand. "Nice to meet you"

As we chat, I quickly learn that Mark here is a Harvard graduate. Oh, and he's Asian too. 

Yep, I'm totally cooked.

I got acquainted with Priya and Justine who casually drop that they're from Yale and Stanford, respectively.

Okay, not freaking out.

They swap stories about their high-profile internships, corporate connections, and achievements, while I can't even remember the name of my favorite professor. 

I just smile tightly, offering nods.

By the time the receptionist calls my name, my confidence is in shambles. 

The interview room is massive, with a long table and three interviewers seated at the far end. The lights dim slightly, and a projector flickers to life, displaying my picture and bio on the wall.

"Jessica Reed" the woman says, her voice clear and professional. "Thank you for joining us today. Let's begin."

The first question hits me like a freight train. 

"If Valentus Technologies were to expand into a saturated international market where our competitor already dominates, how would you craft a market penetration strategy while maintaining our brand's exclusivity?"

I blink. Huh?

What the hell happened to "Tell us about yourself?"