Lackluster

Chapter VI

Chapter VI

Cold and dejected.

Win was cold and dejected when he entered the last building he applied to this week. He had been turned down five times on several jobs earlier, and it wasn't helping that he hadn't had something to eat since breakfast. I need to stop skipping meals. Type wouldn't like it if he found out.

After entering, he glanced around the lobby, and tried to find the reception desk the moment he got past the security. The lobby was decorated in black and rose gold elements, there's a lounge area comprised of big L-couches, and an enormous obsidian chandelier hung on the center—this, paired with the looming windows, just adds to the immense space of the place. Wow. Whoever owns this place is rich. That's a rare art piece by the famous Earn.

Win couldn't believe that the owner of the building had bought such an expensive piece, and he's sure that it must've cost a fortune. He shook his head in slight amusement.

With renewed focus he approached the reception desk with quick strides and smiled pleasantly at the lady behind the desk. "Hello, good afternoon. I'm Metawin Opas-iamkajorn, I'm here for a job interview for the personal assistant position?"

The smile on the lady's face morphed into confusion for a second before she shook her head and proceeded to check if he really had an appointment.

Win found her confusion a bit unsettling. Maybe he went to the wrong building? Is there another VC Corp. here? Maybe Pear mixed up the names. He sighed internally. Maybe I should've made sure if I got the right address—triple checked it or something.

"Uh, sir? It's on the 6th floor, meeting room 10." Win refrained from thinking too much of it, and thanked the lady before going to the elevator.

He ended up riding the elevator alone, and pressed the 6th floor button before turning to the reflective side and checking if he had any dirt on his clothes or skin. Still handsome, Win. He could almost hear his father's voice telling him.

He and his father were close, much closer than Win and his mom. As the youngest in the family, Win's parents had never made him feel any pressure about his life and dreams. He was allowed to take soccer classes, he was allowed to fail his subjects, and he was allowed to be himself. His parent's never put any unnecessary expectations on him—he was thankful for that.

Even though he came from a well-off family, his dad on no occasion ever forced Win to go to their social events—he knew families are supposed to be there as a whole, but his anxiety about crowds of people all looking his way, throwing questions at him, and noticing him; he couldn't bear that torture. Regardless of his parents repeatedly assuring him that he wasn't being a burden by not attending these parties, he still felt bad about it. Type would be the one to go on most occasions and he was the known child of their family. Win felt relieved about that somehow.

His brother was the center of attention from the beginning. Type was a genius, he's good at sports, at socializing, and music. He was always called to perform at huge gatherings because of how beautifully he played the piano. Win on the other hand, he was good at...well, he is a great cook, he likes to play music too, and dress up? Sigh. Thinking about it, I never really had a passion aside from dressing up, and designing clothes. This is why people think I'm useless.

All his life, Win had depended on his family for comfort, and assurance—but that is far from the case now. He is alone, his brother is sick, and he needs to find a job that pays well. He shouldn't think about such things as passion. Passion wouldn't be able to pay his bills—for now.