Cute Romance Short Stories

Rosemary and Leo Part 2

I am led into a room that looks like an old classroom. There is a table in the center of the room where a woman and two men sit watching me enter. 

"You may play your work on the laptop before you." The woman who speaks wears a suit that gives her the look of a stereotypical secretary. I'm not a fan personally.

The laptop is positioned on a cart that also holds what looks to be a projector. I guess that's why the lights are so dim. I thought it might have just been an aesthetic thing at first.

I pull out my flash drive and place it inside. It's not until I try to move the laptop curser that I realize my hands are sweaty. Geez not me being a nervous wreck? This is unbecoming of me. 

Get it together you know this is good. It does not matter if they like it or not.

Before I hit play I say...

"This is not just a film. It is life through the eyes of the storyteller. The storyteller is you, you, you, me. The story is life itself." 

And then I hit play.

I choose to face the projection instead of watching their reactions unfold before me. I figured it would be better to just face it all at once at the end. It was indeed better until the end actually came. I watched the credits roll. That yellow accent I did on the text against the blue...yeah I did that. 

I take a deep breath.

I turn around. "Thank you, Ms. Solana. We'll have someone reach out to you with the results."

I didn't even realize she would be right there when I turned around. How did she even get up that fast? 

"No critique?" I ask. 

She smiles. "We must deliberate extensively Solana. You may ask why you received your results after you receive them. How's that?" She extends her hand toward the door.

"Okay."

Outside of the building, the wind blows hard and cold. The scent of a burning cigarette hits my nose. I turn in its direction. Their blue suit guy stands in the most cliche leg up on the wall bad smoking a cigarette way. This was his character type? 

"Why do you keep staring at me?" 

I am startled by his voice. 

"I'm not staring at you." 

"Yeah...you are. And have been since earlier." He begins to walk toward me.

"Do I know you or something?" He presses on. 

Now that he's close I can smell his cologne underneath the smell of the smoke. It's tangy if that makes sense...

"No, you don't know me."

"Do you want my number or something?"

I can't hold back a chuckle. "I like your suit buddy that's all." 

"So you want my Insta?" 

"And that's my queue..." I turn around and start to walk off.

"Whoah Whoah Whoah, what did they tell you in there?

"I'm not telling you."

"How come?"

"Because I don't want to."

I walk a little faster.

"I asked every single person that's come out here the same question, what makes you so different that you can't answer?"

I stop. He stops too finally catching up with me. 

"They said they would get back with me." I don't know why I answered him. More importantly, I don't know why I feel guilty while saying it. I mean those are the words most used when someone is about to get rejected...But that doesn't necessarily mean that's the context she was saying it in. "What did they tell you?"

"Same thing." 

"Bullshit."

He takes a drag of his cigarette. "Why would I lie?"

"Why wouldn't you?" I ask.

He takes a moment. I assume he's thinking of a reply.

"Because I wouldn't gain anything from lying to you."

He takes another drag of his cigarette.

"Do you think they'll actually get back with you?" 

"I believe that is a possibility."

"Do you believe that it's a probable one?"

He laughs. Then chuckles. I take that as my answer.

He thinks we got the classic waitlist response. The one where you just know you're at the bottom.