nanometer on my body.
"Thank you. What about you?" The young man was beginning to open his luscious mouth to answer my question when the elevator's door opened. "Damn you, elevator."
"I have to go now. It was nice meeting you." I hurriedly escape the enclosed room because of the nervousness that I felt from him for sure wasn't going to help in my interview.
"Ah, wait up. Do you know where is the ..." he shouted out to me while looking at me running and amused. His voice trailed off in the distance so I couldn't hear the end of his sentence at all.
"The model apartment? I don't know I'm new here," I shouted back while still running awkwardly on my black high heels, the ones that I had not worn for a really long time. From the corner of my eyes, I swore that I could see his surprised face and an intrigued look. Ah crap. "Don't tell me that he wasn't a model." Well, aside from the model, he could be an artist, a photographer, a construction worker. Oh, yeah, construction worker. My mind began to fill in the images of him, topless, with sweats all over his oily body as he stood out in the sun, showing people how he used his muscles. Ah, I wanted it. I wanted it.
Walking through the hallway where many workers were anxiously walking in and out hurriedly, some were holding notes, papers, folders, and briefcases in their hands. It must be an intense workplace. The building interior looked very simple and modern. Each and every curve must have been designed by a very creative and talented designer. "This looks like a promising place." I hoped.
"Room 2341. Let's see...Ah, here it is." I found the glass room where in front of the door had the room number painted in grey as well as a sign made from wood saying, "Editors' Interviews." A lady inside dressed in a professional black suit opened the door for me. Her clothes looked expensive and she was incredibly beautiful.
"Excuse me ma'am. Are you here for an interview?" The blond girl smiled and asked me.
I nodded and she led me inside, to another room where dozens of youngsters were either sitting, standing up or pacing around anxiously. I didn't know that the job was so competitive. "Oh man, the chance of me getting this job is very slim." Great.
"May I know your name please?" The blond girl asked after I had gotten my ticket number at the front of the room.
"Jessica Meldia. Number 51." I smiled at her and said while she began to search on her iPad. Must be nice to have all this technology for her.
"Ok, I got it. Please wait here and we will call you." We both said good-bye politely and I found myself a seat to sit down. It was going to be a while.
"Hi, I'm Ana." The petite brunette girl beside me reached her hand out and introduced herself.
"Hello. I'm Jessica, how are you doing?" I greeted her back with a smile. She was cute, reminded me of Alexandra, my niece. She was fidgeting her hands on her lap.
"I'm scared." She laughed nervously. "I mean anybody would since they only accept one person in all of us. It is a miracle that these people don't go around and strangle each other on the spot."
"Wow. It is that hard to get in?" I was honestly shocked by her statement. My eyes were then met by her surprised face, as though I was the strangest creature on Earth!
"You didn't know? And you came here? Man, I don't know how well you had prepared but...good luck." Her eyes softened as she looked at me. Maybe because she knew that she just had one less competitor. "I am guessing you have some substantial experience, right?"
"You assumed that because of my age, aren't you?" My inner voice sounded so sad. Sigh. It was 95% the reason that my husband left me. That bastard.
"Not really, I just...got recommended from a friend to come here." I regained my small burst of emotion and spoke up.
"You sure are lucky ma'am. I mean almost all of the people in this room are elites." Ana scanned around the room and paused at a young chubby man with short hair and long beard.
"You see that guy
"Thank you. What about you?" The young man was beginning to open his luscious mouth to answer my question when the elevator's door opened. "Damn you, elevator."
"I have to go now. It was nice meeting you." I hurriedly escape the enclosed room because of the nervousness that I felt from him for sure wasn't going to help in my interview.
"Ah, wait up. Do you know where is the ..." he shouted out to me while looking at me running and amused. His voice trailed off in the distance so I couldn't hear the end of his sentence at all.
"The model apartment? I don't know I'm new here," I shouted back while still running awkwardly on my black high heels, the ones that I had not worn for a really long time. From the corner of my eyes, I swore that I could see his surprised face and an intrigued look. Ah crap. "Don't tell me that he wasn't a model." Well, aside from the model, he could be an artist, a photographer, a construction worker. Oh, yeah, construction worker. My mind began to fill in the images of him, topless, with sweats all over his oily body as he stood out in the sun, showing people how he used his muscles. Ah, I wanted it. I wanted it.
Walking through the hallway where many workers were anxiously walking in and out hurriedly, some were holding notes, papers, folders, and briefcases in their hands. It must be an intense workplace. The building interior looked very simple and modern. Each and every curve must have been designed by a very creative and talented designer. "This looks like a promising place." I hoped.
"Room 2341. Let's see...Ah, here it is." I found the glass room where in front of the door had the room number painted in grey as well as a sign made from wood saying, "Editors' Interviews." A lady inside dressed in a professional black suit opened the door for me. Her clothes looked expensive and she was incredibly beautiful.
"Excuse me ma'am. Are you here for an interview?" The blond girl smiled and asked me.
I nodded and she led me inside, to another room where dozens of youngsters were either sitting, standing up or pacing around anxiously. I didn't know that the job was so competitive. "Oh man, the chance of me getting this job is very slim." Great.
"May I know your name please?" The blond girl asked after I had gotten my ticket number at the front of the room.
"Jessica Meldia. Number 51." I smiled at her and said while she began to search on her iPad. Must be nice to have all this technology for her.
"Ok, I got it. Please wait here and we will call you." We both said good-bye politely and I found myself a seat to sit down. It was going to be a while.
"Hi, I'm Ana." The petite brunette girl beside me reached her hand out and introduced herself.
"Hello. I'm Jessica, how are you doing?" I greeted her back with a smile. She was cute, reminded me of Alexandra, my niece. She was fidgeting her hands on her lap.
"I'm scared." She laughed nervously. "I mean anybody would since they only accept one person in all of us. It is a miracle that these people don't go around and strangle each other on the spot."
"Wow. It is that hard to get in?" I was honestly shocked by her statement. My eyes were then met by her surprised face, as though I was the strangest creature on Earth!
"You didn't know? And you came here? Man, I don't know how well you had prepared but...good luck." Her eyes softened as she looked at me. Maybe because she knew that she just had one less competitor. "I am guessing you have some substantial experience, right?"
"You assumed that because of my age, aren't you?" My inner voice sounded so sad. Sigh. It was 95% the reason that my husband left me. That bastard.
"Not really, I just...got recommended from a friend to come here." I regained my small burst of emotion and spoke up.
"You sure are lucky ma'am. I mean almost all of the people in this room are elites." Ana scanned around the room and paused at a young chubby man with short hair and long beard.
"You see that guy
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