𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | ✓

5

The woman flips through my resume once more. I push my clasped hands between my thighs as I sit across from her. I follow her every move, noting her eyes scanning the page before her from top to bottom and going back up again.

She sighs and shuts the folder. "Miss Stewart," she starts. From the way her painted mouth forms a straight line and her grim tone, I can already tell whatever following next won't be pleasant. I brace myself for the blow. "While your grades are remarkably good, I doubt you have the abilities required for this job. We've had applicants with much more fitting skill-sets. Along with experience matching the requirements of this work better. I hope you understand, but we cannot give you this position," she finishes and pushes my file towards me.

I nod and grab the yellow binder. "Thank you for your time," I mumble, gaze downcast, as I get up and drag my feet out of the office.

I lean against the wall near the door and rest my head against it, staring blankly at the bare white wall across from me. With one hand clutching the file, I press the heel of my other palm to my forehead and squeezing my eyes shut.

Damn it.

I was so ready to land this job. What will I tell Mom and Mason? How can I send Dad to therapy with no money?

The urge to scream, or kick something, or even punch somewhere just to get rid of my rising frustration burns through my veins. But instead, I settle with deep breaths to calm myself.

After a long moment, I pull myself to my full height, slip the folder into my rucksack and trudge out of the building.

I rest my hands on the straps of my backpack, my arms weigh it down, hunching my shoulders. I stand on the sidewalk, gazing at the passing cars, and can't help but wish I had majored in anything other than maths. A major that would have secured a good and high-paying job with minimal effort.

But never in million years did I imagine we'd lose our fortune.

Lost and dejected, I plod down the street, towards my least favorite place, the subway. All the while, my mind wanders to the plans I had made after getting my first salary from this job I failed to get into.

The twenty minutes ride to my college goes by faster than expected. By the time I'm out of the underground and away from those moving metal boxes, the sun is slowly sinking behind the skyline.

I walk past the campus and tread towards my favorite coffee shop.

I have to pull myself together and start looking for new positions. There's no point in mopping. My family needs me, I must stay strong and keep my emotions at bay.

Yet, the rejection hurt.

I never thought I had to endure it. All my life, I prepared myself to become a professor, a kind one too, not like these assholes in my university. On top of that, I was positive Dad will always have my back. There wasn't a thing that a phone call from the billionaire business tycoon Mr. Stewart couldn't fix.

How wrong I was.

Now I am my family's support system.

I sigh and enter the cafe, and get in the lengthy line of reaching my spirit booster, coffee.

The brick walls give a welcoming sense. Orange and yellow lightbulbs hang on long black electric cables, over a foot apart from the ceiling, illuminate the place. I survey the area, all booths are taken. At least I don't have to worry about finding a spot. My apartment is a few blocks away from here and I love walking.

That is the only bright side of my daily basis life, college and my favorite coffee shop are near where I live. How pathetic.

I inhale sharply and shake my head. Be positive.