"This one is bold," says Montrose, comparing two mock magazine covers that I designed. "But I like this one better. It's more original and reflects who you are as a designer."
We set the rejected one aside and continue with the selection process. He strokes the end of his dark, bushy mustache while studying a print out of a web page that I created a while ago.
"I'm still on the fence about this one," he says after a long silence. "Let's get back to it later."
Without taking his eyes off my projects, he stabs into his garden salad and stuffs it in his mouth. I didn't have to come to him during his lunch break but I was too anxious to wait until class. Plus he didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he happily invited me in, eager to help me choose pieces for my portfolio.
"I really appreciate your help," I sincerly say.
He turns to me with a puzzled expression. "Of course, Jules. I'm always happy to help." There's a pause as he concentrates on stacking croutons on his fork. "And I think of it as doing humanity a favor."
"What do you mean?"
"The world needs designers like you."
I think about how much I'll miss Montrose next semester when I register for new classes. Even if my schedule is busier than this semester, I'm going to make it a priority to visit him at least once. And if I'm accepted into the internship, I owe him a lot more than that.
Business is slow at the theater today which is likely due to our first snowfall of the season. I've only had to clean up two soda spills while the rest of the place remained immaculate and deserted of guests.
When there's not many customers, my manager usually clocks out early, like he does today. The minute he walks out the door, I can practically feel the theater lift a thousand feet in the air with my co-workers' sighs of relief.
"We should all just go home early," Haydis remarks not more than a second after the door swings shut. He scoops popcorn with a soda cup and slides it over to me.
"But what will the citizens of London do without their trusty movie theater tonight?" I joke as I throw a handful of the buttery snack into my mouth.
"They can burn in hell," Haydis bluntly says. "Or freeze to death outside."
The sound of howling wind bursts from behind us and we see three girls enter from the door, dragging swirls of snow in with them.
"You've got to be kidding," Haydis hisses. "Who goes out in this blizzard to see a film when they can watch them in their own, warm homes?"
I'm wondering the same thing but don't speak a word as the girls approach us. I slide the cup of popcorn behind the counter and return to my work. When they approach the concession stand, I can hear the girls' loud and indecisive babbling as they talk over each other.
Haydis silently looks at me in desperation. I mouth, "Hang in there," and flash him a supportive smile.
When they finish stocking up on candy, soda and other causes of diabetes, the girls rush over to the One Direction cardboard display.
"Eeeeek!" they squeal in chorus.
"Oh, my god," one of the girls gasps. "I've got to get a picture with my husband, Harry!" She stands on the tips of her toes and poses with her lips puckered beside him as her friends snap a picture.
The girls squeal and hop around like caffeinated bunnies while taking turns with the life size cut-outs. They stay for so long, taking so many pictures, I start to wonder if they even remember that they came here to watch a movie.
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Fanfiction"Hold on a second," Harry says, suddenly coming to a halt. I stop with him and glance down. Somehow his hand has found its way into mine. "What? What's wrong?" I ask, shivering. "How disgustingly cliche would it be if we kissed in the rain right now...
