In Your Arms

An Interview

"Ren." His voice was clipped, as if he had answered the phone in a hurry.

"Uh, hi." You say your name, "I was calling in response to the ad you posted on campus? About needing a house sitter?" Your voice sounded foreign. It danced somewhere between your customer-service voice and nervousness.

"Yes. What about it?"

"I-" You stuttered. Wasn't the reason for your call obvious? "I would like to interview for the position at your earliest convenience, sir."

Was the 'sir' too much?

"Ah. Understood. Be at my house tonight at 7. I'll have my assistant send you the address."

Click.

What the fuck was that? Annoyed - you toss your phone onto the bed behind you. You sit at the small desk in your studio apartment, your laptop sitting open in front of you - offering the only source of light in the crowded space.

Glancing at the clock, you realize it's already mid-afternoon. A handful of hours separate you and the elusiveness of the interview.

You open a new tab in the browser window and glance at the door - like someone would come in and see you doing something you shouldn't be doing.

Ren.

Pathetic, really, but it was all you had.

Kylo Ren: Orphan turned Mogul
It is no secret that Boston's finest homegrown businessman - Kylo Ren - arrived at the top of the food chain seemingly from thin air. However, the biggest mystery that no one can seem to figure out is just where Mr. Ren came from. Much speculation revolves around the origin of Kylo Ren - with no known sources having anything to offer in terms of any family history. Is it possible that journalists and private-eyes alike can't find his family simply because he doesn't have one? One thing is for sure, though, Kylo Ren is a force to be reckoned with. A promising bachelor with his eyes set on the prize, and the backing of powerful higher-ups. We can all agree, this man's journey is something we would like to keep an eye on.

Could it really be the Kylo Ren you're meeting with? You faintly recall seeing him on a talk-show a few months back. Something about his company First Order Holdings Inc. meeting little resistance on the path to success.

None of it really made sense to you. Your focus was never major cooperations, or suits of any kind. Your passion has always been medicine, and the two worlds seldom intertwined.

A few more articles and you could deduce that Kylo Ren was in fact - made of money. There had been not one but TWO inside exclusives on his grand estate. It was called Starkiller Estates, and it was far bigger than you had previously envisioned.

Surely he would have more hired help than just you, right? No one person could be responsible for such a colossal property. A few clicks through the images of the main house and you were sold. It was stunning.

Like a model home picked directly out of something seen in Modern Living Magazine - it was concrete faced with plenty of floor to ceiling windows. There was an entry courtyard that was framed with tall trees and the centered was depicted with an ornate fountain in the middle.

The nature of it all took your breath away, you had never seen something so nice. Suddenly, you were all too aware of your current living quarters.

A tiny studio apartment, awkwardly placed above a Mediterranean restaurant. It often smelled of falafel, and the ancient windows were encased in thick white lacquered paint - impossible to open.

You had tried your best to make it feel like home, as much as any person could do, anyway. The walls were an uncharacteristically sunny yellow, and the cabinets that lined the kitchenette were pale blue. The floor, which was always cold beneath your feet, was authentic wood - the color of oak.

The only furniture you had to speak of was your queen sized bed, - framed with a silly old-school headboard and matching footboard that had metal framework - your desk, and a couple of barstools that stood awkwardly tucked into the corner of the kitchen.

All in all, it was nothing compared to the beautiful Starkiller Estate. But, you were quite sure anything would pale in comparison.

Ding.

The noise pulls your from your day dreaming and you stand, locating your phone in the pile of blankets half hazardously strewn about the bed.

Kylo Ren's address glared at you from your inbox, and you had a smile plastered to your lips that was a mile wide.

Nailing this interview was important. It could change everything - assuming it paid as well as you were beginning to hope it did. Even if it didn't - it would offer an amazing opportunity to become acquainted with some of Boston's finest real estate. A welcome escape from the dank home you call your own.

6:15. Shit. You hadn't even noticed the passing of time, nor had you eaten dinner. Your stomach growled in protest and you looked around, trying to visualize the perfect outfit for such an occasion as tonight.

Eventually you settle on something that looked professional - but not snobby. Black tights, a black skirt, a plum colored sweater, and a beanie to cover your ears from the chill of the evening.

Ok. Maybe this was a little Teacher-esque, but it would have to do.

Precisely at 6:30 you climb into your embarrassingly rundown car, and set the GPS for the address you were given.

You had done a hundred interviews before. You knew the procedure for a standard Meet and Greet, but a nagging feeling in the back of your mind was urging you to accept that this interview would be far from normal.

Your knuckles grew white as the grip on your steering wheel tightened. Your heart pounding unashamedly in your chest. Why in the hell are you so nervous? Does it have anything to do with the pictures you had seen of your Mystery Client during your creepy Google search? Of course not. You shake your head, refusing to entertain the thought for even a second.

Weaving in and out of traffic, you soon find yourself pulling into the long driveway of Starkiller Estates.

I can do this. It's just an interview. Simple.

Examining yourself one last time in the pull-down mirror, you push open the door and climb out, your teeth assaulting your trapped lip as you make your way to the daunting front door.

————————————————————————
Authors Note:

hi guys! i hope you're enjoying it so far! i was going to make an accompanying instagram for readerchan. it would give you an opportunity to see the house, the dog, and other stuff that she posts!

let me know if that's something you would wanna have! i think it could be fun!

be safe xx