Arabella Pearls stood nervously outside the tall glass building of Kingsley Tech Group, her palms damp and her heart pounding.
At twenty-two, fresh out of university with a degree in technology, this was her first real job interview — and possibly her only shot at a stable future. She had no family to fall back on. The salary from this job could cover her rent, help her stop juggling freelance work, and maybe even let her dream of a place she could call her own.
She stared at the reflective glass for a moment, straightened her blouse, and whispered to herself, "You've got this. Just… don't mess up."
Inside the building, she approached the reception desk and confirmed her appointment. Her voice wavered, but the receptionist gave her a polite smile and directed her to the fifth floor.
She entered the elevator and pressed the button. The mirrored walls reflected her anxious face. She smoothed down her skirt, took a deep breath, and began mumbling to herself, "Be calm. Be confident. Just explain your projects clearly…"
Ding.
The elevator door opened — and in stepped a man.
He looked like he belonged on the cover of a tech CEO magazine. Tall, dressed in a tailored navy suit that fit him perfectly, he exuded power and control. His sharp jawline, neatly styled black hair, and intense gray eyes made her freeze.
Arabella's mouth parted in surprise before she caught herself and turned away, cheeks burning. Oh no, why do I always embarrass myself in front of good-looking people? she thought miserably.
The man glanced at her sideways, amused by her expression. She was quiet, almost skittish — but her flustered reaction had a strange charm to it.
After a brief silence, he asked casually, "What's your name?"
Arabella turned her head slightly. "Who, me?"
He smirked. "No, the person behind you."
Startled, she instinctively looked behind her — only to see her own reflection in the elevator mirror. She blinked, realized what just happened, and turned back toward him, her face now beet red.
He was holding back a laugh.
Her embarrassment quickly turned into irritation. "Who I am is none of your business," she said, flustered. "Don't talk to me."
She turned away sharply.
He raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Still, he watched her with amusement, intrigued by the unexpected sass beneath her shy exterior.
Ding. The elevator opened again.
Arabella bolted out of it like she was escaping a trap, her heart racing.
She made her way to the waiting area outside the interview rooms. A few other candidates were already seated. She found an empty chair and sat down, clutching her file tightly.
Get it together, she told herself. You've prepared for this.
She reviewed her portfolio again — clean layouts, a strong final-year project, and clear documentation. Her coding tests had been strong. But still, a familiar anxiety crawled up her spine. Presenting her work was always the hardest part. She hated being the center of attention.
A few more candidates went in before her. Each time someone came out, her nerves returned tenfold. What if she stammered? What if they asked something she didn't know? What if her voice shook?
Finally, her name was called.
She stood, legs slightly unsteady, and walked into the interview room. Three people sat inside — one man, two women — each with a file in front of them.
"Good morning," she said, bowing her head slightly.
The questions began. They asked about her educational background, her final project, her part-time freelance work. One of the interviewers looked impressed when she explained the real-time data processing feature in her app. Another asked her how she handled bugs under pressure — she gave an honest answer that included both her mistakes and how she'd learned from them.
To her own surprise, she felt herself relaxing a little.
By the time she walked out, she didn't know whether she'd nailed it or failed — but at least she hadn't blanked out or embarrassed herself.
She exhaled deeply and left the building, the morning sun warming her face.
Whatever happens, she thought, at least I gave it my best.
Still, she couldn't stop herself from treating herself to her favorite chocolate cake on the way home. Maybe it was silly, but after surviving that rollercoaster of a morning - she felt she'd earned it.