Strings (PTX AU)

The First Convergence/ Ready

Kirstin Maldonado was ready. That was weird, given her tendency to overthink things to the point where everything seemed to risky and too challenging to attempt. But this time, she was confident. Well, that was a bit much, but she was ready. She had prepared for this interview with all she had, spending copious amounts of time going through answers to potential questions that she'd co-written with her flatmate.

"Kirstie! Have you seen my shoes?", a voice called.

"You have, like, fifty pairs. Care to specify?"

"The clown-y ones that I love."

She looked up from her coffee as he came into view. Donning a black suit over his skinny frame, hair swept neatly across the left side of his angular face, and barefoot, was Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi. Mitch made himself comfortable next to her on their blue couch.

"Are you sure you want to wear those?", she asked teasingly.

"Hey! They're good shoes, and they're comfortable."

"Not exactly professional, though. Comfortable? Remember the last time you wore them? You were whining all day about how they hurt your feet."

"That was 'cause they were new. I've broken them in now, so they'll be fine. And I'll have you know, Kirst, that companies look for more than a perfect letter grade. You need a little charisma and character for this sort of thing."

"Well, that makes us the ideal choices for the jobs, right?"

"Indeed it does.", Mitch took her cup out of her hands and sipped the coffee, not bothering to return it.

"Have you checked the kitchen?", she suggested as his eyes scanned the messy heaps of clothes and books that engulfed the rest of the living room.

Mitch walked behind the counter, skeptical. A procession of banging doors and clanging pans followed.

"Are you ready for today?", she heard him yell over the blur of noisy utensils.

She was. Or at least, she hoped she was. The job description seemed simple enough in the newspaper ad. Assistant project manager for a highly prestigious art firm. There were two places available, because apparently they needed two assistant managers. Anyhow, that was great for them, since they could apply together and -hopefully- work alongside each other. Plus, the pay was luxurious.

"How did they get here?", Mitch exclaimed, pulling out his precious pair of shoes from an empty kitchen cabinet, evidently having forgotten that he'd asked her a question. 

Kirstie shrugged, standing up and smoothing out her skirt's creases. She looked at the clock, biting her lip to keep down the rising anxiousness in the pit of stomach.

Mitch grabbed her arm and opened the door.

"Let's go ace this."

                                                                                                        *

"I just don't like the chord progression."

"Right?", Kevin nodded in agreement, flipping radio channels. Avi was driving them to their interview, weaving through the traffic like a madman (though that in itself was slower than it would've been if Kevin hadn't insisted they make it to their destination alive). Honestly though, by this point the men weren't too bothered. They needed jobs, sure, but they had enough experience with these interviews to know that panicking would not help them, and neither would pondering over the possible questions they'd be asked. 

"Kev?"

"Yeah?"

"Where should we go for lunch after?"

"Oh, I know this great Nigerian place near our apartment."

"Is it close?"

"Yeah, it's literally two blocks down and to the left."

"Get it. So that's- holy mother of barbeque.", Avi hit the brakes suddenly, and Kevin flew forward, banging his head against the dashboard. 

"Oh my- Avi what have I told you about- woah."

They looked ahead, awestruck, and took in the enormity of their new potential workplace. A thirty storied block of brilliant white cement sat smack in the middle of a sweeping green lawn. Windows and fruit trees were planted at regular intervals across their respective surfaces, and the entire compound was encased by a round of barred metal gates. 

Avi pulled into a spot in the car lot outside, his parking a little jerkier than usual. Kevin winced as their bucket of bolts jumped backwards violently and the engine wheezed to a halt.

Folders in hand, they walked out, the high noon sun scalding the backs of their necks. It was quiet except for a taxi around the corner that buzzed in its place. Their black shoes tapped against the tarmac in a peculiarly nervous manner. Understandably so. Neither friend had come across an opportunity so intimidatingly tall (nearly scraping the sky) in their three years of employment. It was like all of a sudden the weight of the world lay on their shoulders (nonsense, of course, because that burden belonged to the building that scraped the sky) and successful placement now seemed more important than ever. 

Their footsteps were joined by two more sets on the opposite sidewalk. Kevin looked over, curious, and began studying the duo with sidelong glances. A young woman in a black pencil skirt, white collar peeking out from above her black full-sleeved jacket. She walked confidently in her tall heels, but she seemed anxious. The man beside her looked equally as young. He was fashionable, Kevin gathered, except for those weird clown-y shoes he wore that could not be comfortable. He turned back to Avi, who looked alarmed. 

"Shoot. Walk fast, Kev. I need to get out of sight.", he whispered through gritted teeth, hiding himself on Kevin's right, head down. 

"What? Do you know them or something?"

"No. I just... I'll explain later. Move!"