For the fourth time this month, I stood in front of the entrance to the largest and most prospering architectural firm in the country, pressing my portfolio together. I am nineteen years old, have no experience, have a few completely amateur projects in my portfolio, and I delude myself that a company like this will give me a job? Each month, DDesign dismisses a few employees that they believe are not coping with their positions. I had the pleasure of talking to a few of them and hell, they were really good at their trade and yet drag them through the mud. Each time I was convinced that by going inside I would make a laughingstock of myself and chickened out, but I was again drawn here by the awareness that if I want to fulfill my dreams and enter Stanford University in the United States, I must finally cross the border of my own shame and put everything on one card. Otherwise, I will fail not only myself but also my parents with whom I have already had a long enough war.

I took a deep breath and started toward the revolving door. I did three full laps before venturing into the building's threshold. I was automatically struck by a wave of luxury, pedantic cleanliness, and a tense atmosphere among the staff. Slender, well-groomed, and made-up women were sitting at several enormous reception desks. One of them was watching me closely, apparently noticing my indecision. I started toward her, the sound of the clicking of my heels echoing across the huge hall. I pissed off like I was at least going to my wedding, but I really care about this job. If I had worn my favorite ragged jeans, everyone would be looking at me with pity and wondering how I could have mistaken this building for a McDonald's.

- Good morning, how can I help you? - The blonde rose from her seat and smoothed the tight dress on her thighs.

- Hello, I'm here for a job interview - I struggled with myself to keep my voice from trembling with nerves.

- I invite you to the third floor, go to the reception desk there.

My stomach churned up my throat as I made my way slowly toward the elevator. I tried to pretend to be confident at all costs, but my trembling hands betrayed me one hundred percent. I pressed the red button on the panel, waiting patiently for the elevator to come downstairs to the ground floor. I pressed my briefcase even tighter against me when the door swung open and I was blessed with the cold gaze of the young boy. I held my head down and stepped inside the elevator, immediately leaning my back against one of the walls. The stranger looked at me without embarrassment, starting from the legs. He kept looking up, lingering for a moment on my necklace, not changing his expression even for a moment. Curiosity took over me, and I did exactly what he did. I watched as the narrow suit pants fit perfectly on his legs, the snow-white shirt hugging his chest. The boy grabbed his tie and loosened it with one movement of his hand, never taking his eyes off my face. He looked up to three years older than me, so maybe there is still hope that, despite my age, I will be hired.

Brunet motioned for me to leave first when the elevator stopped on the third floor. I walked down the empty corridor ahead, hoping that I was going in the right direction. I kept hearing the man's heavy footsteps behind me and was more than sure he was watching me closely. If I don't fall halfway to this shabby reception desk, I'll be really grateful. I sighed with relief when I spotted a huge wooden counter just around the corner.

- Good morning, how can I help you? - This time a slightly older blonde rose from her seat.

Is that some part of the criteria? Do you have to be blonde to work here? So far, every woman I saw behind the counter here had that hair color.

- Good morning, I was directed downstairs on a job.

- We don't need interns - a male voice spoke behind me.

The woman smiled mysteriously at the person standing behind me, so I turned to face her.

- Who are you? - I asked hesitantly and automatically felt silly at the sound of my scared voice.

Get hold of Mel nerves because this doesn't look good.

- Nathaniel Davis, the owner of the company - he replied, giving me his icy gaze as well.

If you heard a loud crack it was the sound of my jaw dropping to the floor. Is he trying to tell me now that this huge company belongs to him?

- Here is my CV and my portfolio, so ...

- I said we didn't need interns - he repeated and ignored the briefcase I slid towards him. He stepped past me and made his way confidently to the enormous glass door. He put a black card against the reader and literally a moment later disappeared in the middle of some room, which I bet was his office.

Chill, bloody chill radiated from him.

I stood there dead-headed, feeling that at this very moment I was saying goodbye to all my dreams. I need this, actually any well-paid job, or else I'll have to go back to where I came from, and I'm not going to go back to a place where there is no future for me.

- You can leave this briefcase here - the woman's voice brought me to the ground.

- Thank you - I whispered, setting the black object on the counter.

I quickly headed for the elevator, running inside at lightning speed. I expected it to not be easy, but it never occurred to me in my life that I would be clearly struck out without any conversation by a twenty-three-year-old business owner. How is it possible that I have never heard of it being run by someone so young? After all, this is not a hell of a local factory, but a giant company that deals with serious projects from all over the country. For this, you need to have a lot of experience, and he looked like he had just finished high school.

***

- Melka, are you okay? You're pale as a wall - Viktoria nudged me with her hand, sitting next to me on the couch.

- I'm just sad that we have to part. You haven't left yet, and I miss you already - I muttered, looking at her momentarily.

- I am not laughing with it either, but these were our plans. We are graduating from high school and going to our dream universities - she sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder.

- Whoever has succeeded, has succeeded - I said, looking back at the TV screen turned off.

Viktoria is my roommate, or rather, I should point out that she was already my roommate. She differed from me in that her parents weren't among the poorest, and more importantly, they saw no problem that she wanted to go to high school in a different city than she had lived before. They have always supported her financially, visited her once every three weeks, and they would probably have done it more often if it weren't for such a large distance from her hometown. She came to high school with the intention of passing her Matura exam with the best results and then moving to London as soon as possible to study at Cambridge. She has achieved her goal and now she does not face a bigger challenge either, because she goes straight to her older sister, who has been living there for a nice five years.

- Nothing is lost yet. You will find a job and in a year or so you will be packing in all those suitcases just like me - she nodded at the row of luggage waiting for her by the wall.

- I was there.

- Where?

- I was at DDesign. It won't work - shrugged as I pulled my legs up to my chin.

Wiktoria pulled away from me, processing the information. She was clearly surprised that I dared to enter after four months of planning.

- What did they tell you?

- They don't accept interns.

- Let them fuck - she huffed, frowning. She winced at my sour expression and quickly put her arms around me.

- Victoria, I really don't want to go home - my voice faltered and I pressed my lips into a thin line.

- Hey, just because they didn't give you a chance there doesn't mean they won't give it to you at another company, okay?- She rubbed my arm with her hand.

- I'll have to work for four years to earn one semester of study at Stanford.

- Don't overdo it, you've been saving money from every salary for a good three years. If you really care and don't give up you'll find a job well paid and hey, no tears okay? I don't want to leave leaving you like this, she moaned, taking my face in her hands.

I nodded affirmatively and quickly wiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. I didn't want to fall apart, but I was crushed by the thought that now she was left alone with it all. Until Wiktoria was with me, I knew that I would have support from her whenever I was in a worse financial situation. Granted, I have some money set aside, but by the time I can find a new roommate, I will have to pay all the bills myself. I don't mean now that I'm angry with Viki, that everything is going her way and is leaving me, because I'm really fucking proud of her success. I am angry with myself that I haven't come up with any reasonable solution to this hopeless situation for so long.

- You're gonna call me, right? - I asked, smiling sadly.

- You're asking stupidly - she muttered, hugging me tighter. - Melka, I really believe you can go there. Maybe not now, not this year, but there is no age barrier there. A talented person like you will be welcomed without any thought.

- If it were that easy - I laughed softly, squeezing the girl with my hands.

- Nothing's easy. Okay, maybe if you have more knitted parents it's easier, but that doesn't mean much success. At least when you achieve it, you will know that you have achieved it with your hard work, and such people are the most valuable.

- You will come to the opening of my gallery in the States, right? - I joked.

- I'll be the one who gives you the huge scissors to cut the red ribbon - she smiled broadly.

I groaned terribly when the doorbell sounded in the apartment because I saw perfectly well what it meant - Victoria's parents came to drive her to the airport.

- Remember me always! - I threw myself on her neck for the last time, not giving the possibility to get into the car.

- You remember that I keep my fingers crossed and I strongly believe in you - she kissed me on both cheeks.

- Call me - I waved my phone as she closed the car door behind her.

- I will - I read from the movement of her lips.

I felt as if she was just leaving, taking with her a piece of my heart. It will not be so easy for me to get used to the empty apartment and the silence during breakfast. Even though I hated her crashing into the cupboards at eight in the morning, now I'm going to miss it terribly.

I waved her one last goodbye before the car disappeared around the corner of the block. I went back to my apartment and threw myself on the couch. I put my head between the pillows and screamed loudly at them.

***

- Break it down in the third section. There will be another delivery tomorrow and you will die if you do not take care of most of the old one today - Dominic, pushed the cosmetics trolley in my direction.

I nodded my head and, without unnecessary talking, grabbed the handle of the metal device and, barely twisting it around the corners, pushed it to the appropriate department.

My job so far is the most boring job in the world. I really envy the people who meet their friends in the evenings and eat in restaurants or party in clubs, because most of my evenings are just putting goods on shelves in one of the supermarkets. The manufacturer, expiry date, label color, or price all had an impact on where the product would be located, but I already arranged it mechanically. Years of practice. Even though I called this the most boring job, it requires a lot of effort from me. A few hours of jumping on platforms and various stools just to turn each shower gel labeled forward can be classified as an intense workout and I do not need a gym for this. However, I am grateful to Dominic that he did so much for me. He hired me here when I was barely seventeen and first worked on weekends, and then when I got used to school and got into a certain pattern of living in a new city, I started working every day. Right after class, I ran straight home and unlike my peers, I did not hang around lying on the couch in front of the TV, but quickly started studying, which I often took to the store with me, depending on what time I had my shift.

- Yes, I'm listening? - I stretched my back, answering the phone.

- Do I have pleasure with Amelia Rosi? - a woman's voice spread over the receiver.

- Yes, it's me. I'm sorry. Who do I have the pleasure of with? - I frowned as I put the shampoo I had in my hand on the shelf.

- You were today to leave your resume at DDesign. Eliza Kos - she introduced herself.

I automatically stopped all my movements, staring searchingly at the phone screen. This is the same woman who let me leave her briefcase. I remember that she had a badge with that name attached to her dress.

- I took the liberty of going through your documents and hence I have your number.

To the point, woman. Why is he calling me if I received blunt information that they do not need interns in the company?

- I have a slightly different offer for you, but I'd rather talk about it face to face. Could we meet tomorrow?

- Umm, OK - I replied hesitantly.

- Come to my house at twelve, I'll send you your address via SMS. Goodbye - she said confidently, and without even waiting for my answer, she hung up.

I looked at the phone screen once again, my lips parting slightly. What suggestion can a receptionist who saw me in my eyes for a few minutes have for me?

- Work, work! - Dominic appeared around the corner, catching me with my cell phone in my hand.