𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

(xxvii) change

sitting in the waiting room by the reception in this huge glass building was the most interesting situation you had been in thus far.

along with you were ten other candidates for the position you were applying for. some nervous, some restless, trying not to seem rattled. some were admittedly put together, intimidating even.

you found that you were a mixture of all even if your demeanour was indifferent. you had no idea what position you were going to be in when you left this building.

you hoped no one would recognise you even though it was unrealistic to expect that. so you hoped that you would at least be gone by the time someone recognised you. you hoped you could walk out of this building with some more hope.

"wait, aren't you...", one of the candidates, a woman a few years older than you, looked at you with a smile you interpreted as insincere.

"that's the thing about hope. it breeds eternal misery."

you did not think you would see a day in your life when you could relate to a quote from pretty little liars. but here you were.

"really?", another one of the interviewees now took notice of your increasingly uncomfortable demeanour, "you mean-"

"yes", you nodded quickly, wanting to get the remarks that would follow over with as quickly as possible.

"why do you need a secretary's job?", the former continued, "aren't you all set to inherit like half of this company?"

an answer would not reach her because her name was called for the interview. the woman got up, looking as if she'd been caught off guard as she strutted towards the door.

the building you were sitting in happened to be the head office of the company your mother ran. the absolute apex. one of the many office buildings she owned.

you being the youngest child of the three in the family, were set to inherit a substantial amount of her family fortune. enough to last you a lifetime. enough to be passed down through generations like a steadily flowing river.

you had lived the life that others could only dream of living. born and raised in wealth, anything material you wished for would be procured with little effort. you could ask for the moon and it would be hung up in your bedroom the next day with an apology for the delay.

the same couldn't be said of your circumstances anymore but well, no one had to know that, did they?

the woman that walked into the vice president's office to be interviewed walked back out surprisingly quickly, a dull expression on her face and you took it, the interview did not go well.

"y/n sakusa", the receptionist said in a clear voice, a tinge of surprise recognisable in it, "you're up"

your last name caused more whispers to break out because y/n sakusa was going in for an interview at the head office of the sakusa family corporation.

two people walked towards the elevator before they could be interviewed because they realised that there was no scoring a job on merit once nepotism had entered the game.

you stood up from your place, smoothing your skirt from behind before walking in as confidently as you could.

you ignored the looks you received from the other candidates. you had ignored looks like those for a long time. the kind of looks that say 'you haven't earned your place here'.

even if you hadn't, what were they going to do about it?

you walked into the spacious and admittedly luxurious corner office, from one judgemental atmosphere to another. its floor to ceiling windows were witness to a mesmerising view of the city. there was a couch in one corner along with a mirror and then there was a desk at the centre of the space as a reminder that this was an office.