Micki's POV

I wear a plain shirt over dark pantaloon pants and carry a tan swing back. Mom told me to be prepared to hand out my resumes and the certificates to the potential job offers. But I have no idea how this all actually works. Am I suppose to barge in certain booths asking for a job? Or wait for my number? What's my number? I feel like scratching my head which my mother took a hefty amount of time to soothe down because I had to have the worst hair day on the same day when it shouldn't.

She looked stressed over my job opportunity and I assured her for things to be fine and informed dad on the call about my initiative and he sounded happy to hear that his daughter is turning a new leaf in her life. I was rolling my eyes at the pride speech while at the same time I felt bad for lying to my dad. But at the same time I knew it that he would come to know about the truth as soon as he comes back from Ohio.

For now, I look around and observe what everyone is doing. There is a podium up front and someone is giving motivational speech on how to achieve our goals and excel in them by joining their firm. A big screen is projected behind that guy which is moving on its own. It shows the benefits of working with big brands at the start of your career.

Apparently, this guy who I can't see clearly from here, is some newspaper head and he wants everyone to drop in their resume in booth no. 4.

"and now everyone, I would like to recall 3 out of 5 names which I have shortlisted myself for personal interviews. Yes, that's true. The selection of 5 was computerized and 3 people are finally chosen out of a giant corpus of probable candidates. And if anyone out of these 3 names is present right now, please enter backstage with your ID proof and the guards will head you to the interview room. Otherwise, emails for the invitation of internships will be sent by tonight to these 3 people and others who will get selected through normal interviews. Once again good luck to you all. So, these are the 3 names, Teresa Merchant,..."

There is a loud gasp from the right corner of the audience and I see an afro american girl jumping up and down. Everyone goes berserk around her and seems to congratulate her.

What's the big deal about it? My eyes dance around the premises and as soon as I turn around, someone crashes with my shoulder and my document folder drops down, scattering the accoutrements on the floor.

The guy hisses and whispers a timid apology. I bend down as does he and we collectively gather our own pieces of documents.

"and the last name is, Miss Micki Waters."

What!?

My head moves back to the audience. Did they just spoke out my name? Or was I mistaken?

"That's you, oh my god, that's you!! "

The guy who was helping me pick my stuff suddenly speaks with a gallor and my head dances back at him. Astonishment would be the least term to define what I can make out from his face. He seems starstruck actually.

His gulps his adam apple and shouts, "She's here! Micki Waters! She's here."

"what are you doing???" I snide him and whisper him to keep quiet. But it figures that it's too late as every head around me turns their attention to me and suddenly everyone knows that the girl crouching down the floor whose ass is facing them shamelessly, is the same girl they are looking for.

Shame and embarrassment crosses my face for the first time in my life. I didn't know a crowd can intimidate me ever. I have always been the ultimate prankster, however, now it feels like I am the one being pranked here. My cheeks feel hot and I find it difficult to stand when I am crowded with people waiting to congratulate me and steal a glance at my face, either to click a picture or anounce a handshake or too.

It is just a job people, not a hollywood movie cast laid down at me, I shout in my mind and imagine a good shake of head at the stupidity of the common crowd.

I am not a celebrity and I certainly don't want to be.

A few people are generous enough to give me space when I finally gather courage to stand up with my documents handed to me properly by the overly excited guy earlier.

His eyes shine brightly and I swear he is seconds away from asking me for an autograph. Geez.

"What are you looking at?"

I shout at everyone around me who threaten to close into my personal space. The crowd at once makes faces and cellphones have started to get tucked out of their pockets or purses. I want to run somewhere in a flash of second because my brain is unable to understand the absurdity of the situation.

"go away! Leave me alone!"

The eagerly excited boy sincerely runs away by frowning and shaking his head in disappointment and somehow I am left defenseless as the crowd grows further in a circle around me as if a monkey to do a tightrope dance in a jiffy and they are the welcoming audience of a circus.

What the hell, seriously?

Sweat breaks out at my temples as the nervousness grows and the heat too does it job. My hands ball into fists over the document folder at my side. Maybe, my body is preparing myself to either run or scream as if I never screamed before.

One last time, I prepare myself to blink the eyes and clear my throat just in case it is working fine.

"Moveee...away..... "

"MOVE AWAY!!"

Someone says and screams louder than my voice and my own assault get squelched by that rowdy voice. It sounds familiar oddly but I am not able to put it into linelight. Nevertheless, the crowd disperses as few guards come into view and form a circle of protection around me and blow a whistle to scatter the useless worse than a papparazi crowd.

Fortunately, they listen to the voice and the constant blowing of the whistles but the source of the voice disappears. I miss the chance to see who it was.

"Mam, please follow us."

One of the guards with light brown uniforms dressed with intercoms in their ears, walkie talkie in their hands and with shotguns hanging over their waists as if it were not a weapon but an accessory speaks. I have never seen a gun in my life until today.

What an eventful day.

When the guard asks again gently, my brain tells me not to risk flying away inside in my mind. Who knows if the same damn guard shoots me in the head right in front of everyone for not listening to him? Geez!

My mother would be so agry at that.

Therefore, to save everyone a possible rage battle I acquiesce and follow the throng of guards. They continuously bicker some shit degrees, codes, and numbers in their comms which go over my head but the whole scene looks so melodramatic.

Soon enough, I am being taken towards the backstage entrance. It has a redcarpet with red curtains hiding the backstage reality from the candidates waiting outside in a big line for their number to be called out.

Three guards talk in hushed voices with the bouncers and they let us in while all other guards remain outside probably to fetch someone else in distress.

I roll my eyes at the quieteness in the hallaway. The passage doesn't seem to end. We walk straight for 2 minutes and then take first left and then second right.

There's a big black door with a red name plate and white colored text of that name.

Mr. Jared Donovan

A shiver suddenly runs down my back and my feet feel heavy. A foreboding of sorts clouds my mind but my heart bubbles up. The unsolicited giddiness starts to address adrenaline in my harmones.

What's wrong with me? Can a name extract such reaction from somebody?

"Mam...?"

Someone clears their throat behind me and one of the guards gesture their head towards the door. It is half open now.

"You may go in now."

Another guard says with a voice that conveys a strict order and no bullshitting around.

Although my body is restraining me, I enter at my own risk and face the feat of the moment. My heart beeps and thunders like never before in my chest as my eyes land on him... Mr. Jared Donovan.