Leblouche's diary

4. Back to school (2)

"Mr. Leblouche,

Following your interview and the deliberation of our team, we are pleased to inform you that you have been selected among the 16 candidates. Your profile fully meets Ectogen's expectations... Yeah!" I read the email with excitement. I was so thrilled that I hadn't even read the rest of the letter.

It had been four days since the job interview. I had been eagerly waiting for the company's response, and I wasn't disappointed. You should have seen me refreshing my inbox every two hours like a complete maniac.

"Finally... some good news to start the afternoon. What if I went for a little victory ride on my motorcycle?"

And that's exactly what I did. I rode through the streets of my neighborhood that autumn afternoon. Since it was the weekend, the streets were calmer and a bit empty. Of course, I wasn't stupid, and I kept my ride at a reasonable speed.

"Paris's streets are getting dirtier and dirtier... It's worrying—such a beautiful city becoming this filthy..." I thought as I passed through a grimy alley.

As I went through a green light near the building where I lived, I spotted someone with a familiar face.

"Huh, that face rings a bell... Well yeah, it's him!"

It was the employee I had met when I'd taken a nasty fall on the stairs. Seeing him approach the building, I understood that he lived here.

"Uh, hello, we've already met at the office last Thursday. Do you recognize me?" I asked with a smile.

"Oh yes, I recognize you. And by the way, congratulations on getting the job," he replied.

"Thanks, but how do you know I was hired?"

"I work in the HR department (Human Resources), and I saw your file go through when your hiring was approved."

"Oh yeah? And do you know... by any chance... when I start?" I asked, clearly trying to squeeze some information out of him.

He gave a slight knowing smile—the kind people give when they know something but enjoy dragging out the suspense.

"Officially, you'll receive an email with all the information... unofficially," he said, pausing perfectly on purpose, "Monday morning. Welcome at 9 a.m., temporary badge, tour of the offices, and coffee that's way too bad."

"The coffee is bad?" I repeated, feigning concern.

"Catastrophic," he confirmed seriously. "But you get used to it."

I nodded as if I had just absorbed a piece of vital information for my professional survival.

"And... the position?" I insisted, unable to stop myself. "I mean, the team, the atmosphere..."

"You're curious for someone who's just starting," he replied with a light laugh. "But don't worry, you're in good hands. The team's cool, the work is engaging, and nobody bites. Well... not officially."

I let out a small nervous laugh.

"That's not very reassuring when you put it like that."

We then started chatting as we entered the building, and I learned that his name was Mr. Piqueron. He told me he lived on the same floor as me with his wife and that he was just as enthusiastic about the idea of working together.

We stopped in front of his apartment door—it was very close to mine. I wondered how we had managed not to run into each other over the past few days. He took out his keys, then turned toward me.

"Anyway, welcome to Ectogen, Mr. Leblouche. And incidentally... welcome to the building."

"Thank you," I replied a bit awkwardly. "It feels like my new life is starting on all fronts at the same time."