Validation (A Cricky Fan Fiction)(REWRITING.)

II

|SeniorSkipDay|
|1292|

Ricky pulled up beside the path and muttered a wow as he looked up at the building. He got out of the car and walked around it to get off the road. He looked up once again, the sudden realisation that he's meeting with one of the worlds youngest billionaires. Intimidated couldn't even cover what he was feeling.

He skimmed over the questions as he made his way up the elevator, the ding signalling he was on the 20th floor startled him and made him jump. The doors opened to reveal a well lit reception covered in white and grey. A lady with a tight ballerina bun, simple makeup and a black form fitting dress walked out from behind the grey tiled desk.

"Mr. Sitkowski? May I take your coat?" She asked.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Ricky said, turning around and taking his jacket off.

The lady walked off with his coat, putting it god knows where for safe keeping.

"Mr. Cerulli will see you now." The other receptionist stated.

Another lady with blonde hair and tight business attire walked around the corner, presumably his assistant.

"This way please." She smiled.

Ricky looked at all the girls that passed him. He checked over his outfit, terrified of his first impressions. He followed the lady through many corridors to a big set of wooden dark oak doors.

"Right this way." She gestured through the doors.

Ricky opened up the surprisingly light door and tripped over his own feet, all of his stuff going everywhere. Chris stopped looking down at the busy street and quickly walked over to where Ricky had fallen.

"Mr. Sitkowski, are you alright?" He asked, giving Ricky his hand to help him up.

Ricky grabbed his hand and his stuff and pulled himself up. He shook Chris' hand formerly after fixing himself.

"Christopher Cerulli." He introduced.

"Richard Olson. Mr. Sitkowski has the flu so he asked me to fill in." He finished, noticing the confusion on Chris' face.

"I see. So you're studying journalism too?"

"Uh no, English Lit."

The look of confusion returned to Chris' face.

"Ryan's my roommate."

"As I said, I only have 10 minutes. Take a seat." He sighed.

Ricky walked over and sat in the white chair in front of Chris' Blackwood desk. He got the questions out of the folder, along with the recorder. He looked around and spotted a perfect row of pencils, he eyed them until Chris walked around the desk and handed him one. He stayed at the front of his desk while Ricky turned on the recorder.

"Ready?" Ricky asked.

"Whenever you are, Mr. Olson."

Ricky quickly looked down and spoke what he read off the paper.

"So this is for the special graduation issue of the student newspaper."

"Yes, I'm giving the commencement address at this years ceremony."

"You are? Oh uh, I mean, I know." Ricky said, surprised.

"Um, you are very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you-"

"To what do I owe my success?

"Yep"

"Seriously?"