Laura Thompson's POV  (Past)

My Grandmother always used to urge me to reach for the stars, to follow my dreams. 

And here I am. 

"Now, tell me," The older man on the other side of the desk begins, leaning forward in his chair slightly. "In all honesty, why do you want this job?" 

I shift in my own seat slightly, a sudden nervous fog beginning to cloud my headspace. 

"Well," I stammer, attempting to swallow down my rising nerves. "It's been a dream of mine ever since I was young to contribute to the development of space exploration..."

I stop mid-sentence, taking a much needed shaky breath. 

"And, when I found out that SpaceX was in need of an experienced Avionics Supervisor, I figured I would at least give it my best shot." 

The room goes quiet. Dead quiet.

Feeling somewhat foolish, I shift in my now suddenly extremely uncomfortable-comfortable chair once more, waiting for the interviewer to give some sort of response. 

"Well, Ms. Thompson, I believe you were right in every way to take a run at this position," The grey haired man across from me breaks the silence, frowning. "However, you must understand that this is a very critical hiring decision on behalf of SpaceX. I am sure you're familiar with the Starship project?"

I nod slightly, still focused on tackling my nerves down. 

"Of course. Starship is going to be the world's most powerful launch vehicle ever developed! And, if all goes to plan, it will be the vessel that carries the first manned crew to Mars!" 

The interviewer drums his fingers on the desk, the sound piercing the quiet atmosphere. 

The sound stops, and is instead replaced by the shuffling of papers as he reads through my resume for what seemed to be the hundredth time. 

"It says here you attended Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida... Is that correct?" The man behind the desk inquires, once more leaning forward in his chair. 

"That is correct, sir." I nod once again. 

"And you volunteered with your local children's shelter as well?" 

"Correct." 

The grey haired man tilts his head slightly, his eyes scanning once more over the piece of paper in front of him. 

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, he tears his eyes away from the page and looks to me- who no doubt looks like a nervous, sweating wreck- and then back to the paper. 

Paper, me. Paper, Me. 

Then it all happens so fast. 

The interviewer suddenly rises from his chair and extends his hand towards my shaking form.

Startled, I follow suit, making my way to my feet, reaching out to grasp his hand firmly in mine. 

"Welcome to the SpaceX crew." He smiles as we shake hands. "Your first day will begin on Monday. An email will be arriving in your inbox shortly with further instructions." 

Now it was my turn to smile as all the tension and stress slowly ebbs away, replaced by pure joy. 

"I look forward to it!" I bubble, beginning to make my way to the door I had came in hours before. "Thanks again!" 

As I grasp the door handle and turn to leave, I hear the older man mutter something he likely thought I couldn't hear. 

"That kid's gonna go places." 

With a smile still plastered on my face, I gently open the door, turning once more to beam at the man who had just given me the job of my dreams. 

"Have a great evening, sir!" 

And with that, I make my way out into the warm evening air of Hawthorne, California, looking back once more at the glistening SpaceX logo mounted on the outside of the building I had just been inside, seconds ago. 

I did it, Grandma. I'm going to reach for the stars.