Dedicated To Disney

1: Application

The gates seemed so similar to the ones found at Disneyworld and Disneyland.

A worker ushered me through the large gateway and past the check-in where the lines of people didn't seem to end. I looked around me at the numerous statues that greeted visitors when they first stepped into ComplexDisney - each statue delicately carved to look like a Disney character. Some even mimicked the statues found in the museum in the popular Disney channel movie Descendants. Past those statues was another entrance to the main attractions, it seemed.

Behind glass cases, line upon lines of Disney characters were portrayed; moving, breathing, and very much alive.

I wasn't able to gawk at them for more than a few mere moments when a young man appeared from the crowds and greeted me, his expression scrutinizing. The worker who escorted me in quickly bustled off to get back to work as this man glanced casually over his clipboard. My eyes found the fancy CD embroidered decoratively on his tux. I shifted nervously when he remained quiet for several moments.

"Gianna Yumia," he finally read, his blue eyes flicking up to study me.

"Yeah, that's me," I said nervously, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my red t-shirt and ripped jeans. I should have dressed more professionally.

The young man seemed to think the same thing because he shook his head at my outfit, eyes criticizing. "Very well. I'm Zeke Warner and you will be under my direction here at ComplexDisney. The first thing you should know is that things here are taken seriously and professionally."

A wave of hot embarrassment coursed through my bloodstream. I bit my lip. He was plainly referring to my outfit. Probably my hair too. I barely had time to tame it down that morning. Compared to his sleek, carefully combed brown hair, my blond must have looked like a rats nest.

Note to self: Tomorrow + ComplexDisney = professional appearance.

"I understand," I said, swallowing hard and shuffling my weight from one leg to another.

"Mmmm," he responded absently as he looked over my application papers again. "You're nineteen?"

The note of surprise in his tone caused me to waver. "I...I am. Why?"

"Usually we hire older people." His response was blunt, eyes still lowered as he traced something on his clipboard with the pen. "Whoever accepted you must have faith in how you work."

I gaped at him, stunned by the harsh words. That was uncalled for. He's saying I'm unaccountable because of my age? "Excuse you? Why should age matter here? They're allowing three-year-olds to touch the abominable snowman from Frozen over there through unsafe holes in the glass! And you don't look too old yourself, oh high and mighty one."

For a moment, my words remained suspended in the air, surrounded by silence. Then I gasped at the realization of what I just said to a man of higher status than me. I can't get fired on the first day! I haven't even started yet.

A weird look crossed over Zeke's face before he cracked a smile, two dimples creasing in his cheeks. He chuckled humorously. "First of all, he isn't called the abominable snowman. His name is Marshmallow. Get your facts straight. Secondly, you should really learn to hold your tongue. If somebody else had been your boss, that would have already gotten you fired."

"Sorry," I mumbled, twisting a strand of my hair. Something quickly dawned on me. I glanced over Zeke again, looking for something as a giveaway. The dimple-showing smile, the subtle sparkle in his eyes, and the way his hand kept moving toward his hair as if he wanted to mess with it didn't match the personality he seemed to be trying to portray. A large smile slid across my lips and I let out a breathy laugh at my realization. "Gosh, you scared me for a moment, you faker."