I suck in a couple of deep breaths before I finally brave taking a step inside. I’m shaking, I’ve lost too much confidence for my liking. I need to get it back, to remember who I am. I step towards the reception desk where I find a woman with bright red lips and nails almost as long as my fingers. She has a prissy, cheerleader look about her, and I stupidly find myself intimidated, like I’m still in high school.
“Err, hello?” My voice is weak, I’m falling apart already, and I haven’t even got to the interview part yet. If I had any pride at all I would turn around and run for the hills. Forgetting everything. “I’m here for the…”
“Interview,” she replies, making a real effort to sound bored. “Over there.”
She points to an area of the clean white room that almost gleams it’s so bright, and there I find myself looking at a bunch of clones. Or they might as well be clones. They are all sleek and smooth looking, with poker straight hair in various shades of brown, and proper pant suits. Every single one of them would look right here, unlike me. I’m the only one who would stand out like a sore thumb.
I sigh loudly, my head shaking as a sense of regret overcomes me. I feel eyes darting towards me every so often, the other girls wanting to know who this person is that’s sitting among them. I can’t help but wonder why there aren’t any guys here. It’s weird, some must have applied for the position… perhaps the boss is a giant perv who only wants a female to be his personal assistant. No… surely not. That can’t be right. No one is like that these days, surely. It’s illegal… or against human rights or something. I don’t know.
Eventually, a name is called, and someone has to go into the office meaning that my time is growing near. If I let them, my nerves will get the better of me, and since I’m already at a major disadvantage here I want to be calm, as much as I can. I need something to distract myself, to calm myself down and there is only one person who can help me with that. Someone I wish could be here with me instead of at the hospital.
Thank goodness I told her about this job interview, even if I didn’t tell her why I want it.
Lexi: I’m not going to get this job, Jane. I don’t fit in at all. Help me xx
I tap my foot nervously on the floor while I wait for a reply. As far as I know, Jane doesn’t have anything specific today, medical treatment wise, so she should be able to respond pretty quickly.
Jane: Remember how kick ass you are, Lexi. You’re better than any of those bitches xx
I smile to myself, imagining her saying those words in my ear. I might not have ever believed in myself, but Jane has always been my biggest supporter. And she’s never pushed me to be more than I am. She was happy for me to scoot by being a waitress, even as she trained to be a lawyer, as long as I was happy.
Fucking hell, I really can’t lose her. How am I going to make this work?
Lexi: This place is intimidating, I don’t know if I can do it xx
Jane: I’m sorry, who the hell is this texting me? You don’t sound like Lexi at all xx
Lexi: I know, I know, but I’m in a strange situation. It’s making me crazy xx
Jane: Crazy is good… you’re at your best when you’re crazy xx
As another name is called out, I use the chance to head into the bathroom. Luckily, it’s very clearly labeled so I don’t need to ask any of the terrifying staff members where it is.
“Woah.” I shake my head in shock. “This bathroom is luxury. Don’t these people have anything crummy?” It might be a weird thing to wish for, but crummy I understand, crummy I can do.
I take the chance to use the facilities, for what I’m sure will be the first and the last time, and I carefully wash my hands using the liquid soap that smells like actual flowers. Almost good enough to eat. Then I gaze into the mirror to check my reflection. I want to reassure myself that my look isn’t getting any better than it is. Unfortunately, the soft beautiful lighting makes me look amazing. It’s the sort of lighting used in the changing rooms at clothes stores to make you look so good in the clothes that you feel compelled to buy them… only to get them home and realize that you don’t look like a goddess after all.
“Pretend this is you,” I tell myself softly. “Act like this is how you look. Take that confidence and ace this. For Jane. G
et that treatment for her and give her a chance.”
God, I need to seriously pull my head out of my ass. Nerves and inadequacies are pointless when there’s a life at stake. And the life of the best person in the world. What the hell is wrong with me?
After a few moments of gearing myself up, I make my way back out into the waiting room, where I take my seat among the clones. Perhaps that will work in my favor. Maybe being that little bit different will help me to stand out… I just hope for the right reasons. Making my interviewer want to hire me.
I can be a personal assistant, can’t I? Surely it isn’t too challenging? I might not know how to do admin, but I can learn. Anything can be learned, I’m sure. If I really put my mind to it, I can pick it up. And who knows, I might even end up enjoying it. Stranger things have happened.
Name after name is called into the room. The clones thin out. The longer this process takes, the more on edge I become. What if they have already picked who they want, and this is just a formality now? How will I make myself stand out then? How will I sway a bunch of stuck up toffs who will look at my tattoos in disgust?
Despite the fact that I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, my name is called out and it’s time to go inside. I nod and rise to my feet, praying that I won’t fall over as I walk. Curious eyes explore me as I go, making it extremely challenging to make each step, but I do it. I should be used to people staring at me by now, because I decide to look a little out of the ordinary. It happens all the time, but in this situation, it almost overshadows what I’m trying to do here.
Jane, Jane, Jane, I think with every clip clop of my heels against the marble floor. Don’t forget Jane.
As I’m shown to the door to the room where my fate will be decided, I suck in a deep breath and smooth my outfit down one last time, trying to do everything that I can to give me the best chance. Then I rise my trembling hand and I turn the doorknob, plastering a bright fake smile on my face as I do…
What the…?
At first, I assume that I must be dreaming. This feels like one of those nightmares when you suddenly realize that you have no clothes on, but a quick pinch to the arm proves that I am in fact awake. Very awake and facing hell. Because the face smirking back at me is all too familiar, and one that I hoped I would never have to see again. Especially not here, like this. Now I have absolutely no chance of getting this job. Not after I was so rude at our first meeting. Oh, why the hell do I have to speak my mind all the time?