𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐗𝐈𝐗

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February 21st 2023

ZAHRA NICHOLS

"Why are your bathroom walls yellow?" Emmy asked over FaceTime. I had put my phone up on the edge of the sink, trying to give her a tour of my new rental, while also trying to get used to the tiny bathroom. The yellow walls were a glaring, mustard shade that clashed with the turquoise tiles.

"It just is," I replied with a shrug, running a hand through my hair. "The place was labeled 'bohemian' in the listing. I guess this is what they meant."

Emmy's laughter echoed through the phone's speaker. "Oh my god, I just realized. It looks like your mom's place," she said.

I groaned dramatically, placing a hand on my forehead. "Oh, fuck. I'm turning into her," I joked, gasping dramatically.

After we shared a good laugh, Emmy's face softened. "When does the job start?" she asked, her voice a bit more serious.

"Tomorrow," I sighed, leaning against the sink. "I was a last-minute hire since the person who got the position first got fired immediately. Talk about pressure, right?"

"At least they hired you," Emmy said grinning.

I looked around the bathroom again, taking in the bizarrely bright walls. "Yeah, at least they hired me," I said, trying to focus on the positive. "But seriously, if I start decorating with macramé plant hangers and incense burners, promise you'll stage an intervention."

Emmy chuckled. "Deal. But who knows, maybe the Lorelei genes will pass on to you and you'll inherit her amazing taste in decor."

I gave her a tour of the rest of the small apartment. The place had its quirks—creaky floorboards, an odd smell of sandalwood, and faulty lights—but it was mine for now.

February 22nd 2028

ZAHRA NICHOLS

Taking the Tube to my new office at Sky Campus felt like stepping into a whole new world. The train ride was a blur, it was a morning rush hour. I tried to focus on the excitement ahead, biting into my breakfast bagel as I navigated the crowded platform. By the time I went out of the underground station, I was juggling a half-eaten bagel in my right hand, a box of personal desk items in my left, and a heavy saddle bag slung over my shoulder. My shoes, stylish but pretty impractical, were already giving me blisters. God damn Sambas. I hurried towards Sky Campus building, the glass getting closer each passing moment. 

At the front desk, I was greeted by a friendly receptionist who handed me a temporary access card, explaining that my permanent one wasn't ready yet. She directed me to the floor and sector where my desk would be located, and I thanked her.

I arrived at my desk, and I placed my things down, taking a moment to breathe and check out the area. That's when I noticed an older man approaching me with a warm smile. He extended his hand as he reached my desk.

"Welcome to Sky Sports, Zahra. I'm Dalton Fletcher; your supervisor. I believe we've spoken through email and on the phone," he greeted.

I shook his hand, feeling a sense of reassurance in his firm grip. "Yes, Mr. Fletcher. It's great to finally meet you in person."