Under A Paper Moon |N.H|

3

I need curtains, and a giant cup of coffee.

Coffee first. Curtains second.

My alarm went off at seven this morning, and if it weren't for the sun beating on my face from the lack of shade from my windows, I would have stayed in bed.

Although, the sirens and construction sounds coming from outside were a wake up call in itself.

I got ready fairly quickly, but as those minutes went by, I started to become more and more nervous to sit down and discuss the plan for my story.

I'm incredibly excited, but it's scary at the same time. I don't know how to describe it.

These people could either love my story by the time it's done, or they hate it and toss it in the trash, and all that time and effort was a big waste.

This job is a giant wish of validation. I hate to admit it, but it's true.

I have to show parts of a story and hope people like it, hope it makes the cut, and hope it can be seen on a wider scale for more people to judge, and of course what I would want is a positive response.

I never cared for validation like this, I was always able to find validation through impressing myself and becoming proud of myself, so to shift gears and alter my mindset to make things work for other people will be something to adjust to, for sure.

As I leave my apartment for the first time and go on my way to the publishing office, I'm hit with this wave of independence and excitement for the future that is quickly washed over by a fear of uncertainty.

That's something else that my job now entails.

The fact that my first time venturing out alone since moving here is for something insanely important doesn't necessarily help my nerves, but I'm hoping I won't have to be in this highly intimidating building too often.

My gaze lifts upward, analyzing the architecture and how it cuts through the clouds, using a hand to shield the sun from my eyes.

My eyes read the words 'Austin Publishing' bolted on the side of the building, and my heart rate starts to pick up.

I open the glass door after exhaling a deep breath, stepping inside slowly and meeting with the marble interior that travels through the walkway.

To my right, there are scattered pieces of artwork hung strategically on the wall, but it's no surprise that the art is in black and white, showing no color to the room.

I would expect nothing less from a building as intimidating as this one.

I wonder if people who walk by here think the same, or if I'm just feeling this way because I have to come in here and make a good impression.

I shift on my feet and turn over my left shoulder, finding a secretary behind a marble desk.

Why is everything here marble?

We get it, you people are expensive.

I put on a forced smile, trying to seem enthusiastic and excited for the day, but it's early, so I'm not surprised that I have to put on an act in that way.

"Hi, I have a meeting with Chase Austin," I say, forcing my voice to sound chirpier than usual. I wait for her eyes to lift and pay me a sliver of her attention, but she gives me absolutely nothing.

Off to a great start.

"Upstairs, make a right turn at the vending machine, then it's four doors on your left," she responds with the most monotone voice I have ever heard. She doesn't even look up.