"I'll be fine!" Izzy giggled as he straightened the cuffs of his white shirt, which was neatly tucked into a pair of baggy, grey suit trousers. His outfit was tied together neatly with a pair of black suspenders and a short but thick tie.
Izzy Sparks was a young man, 21, given away by his babyish face and bushy, bleach blond hair. He was shorter than average, which was apparent even while sitting down in the car. Beside him was a brunette woman, dressed as though she'd just gotten out of bed.
The woman, Amy Flynn, was driving them through early morning traffic in a small convertible. "I know, I know. I'm just... Worried. These big corporations can easily chew you up and spit you out. I don't want that to happen to you."
Izzy smirked while looking out the window, counting the rain droplets lining the passenger seat window. "I'm not that soft, I get that you have to look out for yourself and all that. But it seemed like the team is really friendly, I'll probably just end up making friends with everyone!"
Amy looked over to Izzy, whose wholesome smile seemed to brighten up the gloomy lighting of the car. She relented, "yeah you'll be fine, you're right." She took a deep but quick breath, "man, look at me, I'm more nervous than you, and you're the one that's starting the job." She chuckled to try and hide the nerves.
"Don't worry, I won't forget ya when I'm at the top." Izzy looked over to her with a wink. "I'll at least treat you to an ice cream or something every once in a while."
"Wow, generous of you, are you sure that won't dent your finances too much?"
Izzy gave out a light laugh.
After a moment of silence, Amy spoke up again. "So what does Mt. Victory actually do?"
"Little bit of everything, I guess," Izzy tilted his head. "I mean, I'm not gonna lie, I didn't really get it when I was reading up about them. But I bet I'll find out once I start."
"I think you're usually meant to know what the company you're signing up for does before throwing yourself wildly at them." Amy squinted.
"Yeah, but it's Mt. Victory! Who cares what they do, it's about the name!" Izzy leaned forward with his arms out to accentuate his point.
"It's a CV maker for sure, how'd you even get it with no experience?"
Izzy's excited demeanour dulled, "I'd imagine someone saw my name and matched it with hers..."
"Oh."
"Yep, guess it's a blessing to share the same name after all." He forced a smile back onto his face.
Amy hesitated with her response, "sorry, I didn't realise."
"It's fine."
The traffic inched forward. A dull city buzzed with busy yet uninspired lives. One grey building reflected off another; it all blurred into the same mess of concrete and glass. The rain only added to the depression, yet it seemingly didn't affect Izzy, whose eyes beamed with enthusiasm. His attention was fixated solely on the tallest skyscraper in sight.
The headquarters of Mt. Victory was a one of a kind structure. Built from a beautiful mix of glass and white steel, its impressive architecture overlooked the whole city. It was unquestionably the most captivating building around, and yet its appearance would not suggest it to be the headquarters for Mt. Victory. No logo was erected on its highest floor, and no branding lined its ground floor. And yet no human alive was unable to identify it if shown a picture. It was simple. It was iconic. It was Mt. Victory.
The door to the convertible swung open and barreling out came Izzy.
"Good luck! Let me know when you're finished, and I can come get y-!" Amy shouted after him before being cut off by blaring car horns behind her. She waved and quickly rejoined the endless sea of vehicles trying to flow through the city.
Izzy smiled and waved after her before turning to face Mt. Victory. There it was; he was moments from potentially the most important day of his life. A tall set of stairs led up to three sets of glass doors, beyond which Izzy could only spy the beginnings of a white-ish marble roof and walls. 'Mt. Victory' was printed out in small bronze lettering across the top of the doors, small enough to easily be missed if one wasn't looking out for it.
He made his way up, pausing with excitement just before pushing the glass doors open. Inside, the white-patterned marble ceiling and walls were only brought out more by an excellently layout wooden floor, polished to perfection. Six elevators lined the room on either side, with a small waiting area designated in the middle, with low down leather chairs and industrial-style tables. Sitting comfortably at the back of the room was a long, wooden reception desk, manned by a single person.
Izzy didn't waste any time, he was mere minutes from being late. He shuffled past the chairs and the tables, ignoring the obvious path one was meant to take to reach the reception. Once he got closer, he could easily make out the receptionist. He was a middle-aged man, handsome and well kept. His short black hair was styled to show a level of fashion that Izzy was already expecting, having looked up some of the listed employees. Dressed in what appeared to be just smart casual clothing, the only thing implying that he was an employee was his name tag: 'Henry'.
"Good morning!" He spoke with a typical level of customer service energy. "What can I help you with today young man?"
Izzy almost tripped over his own words. "Ah- Ye-, I'm a new social media manager, Izzy Sparks?"
"Ah yes wonderful! Let me look you up." He got busy clicking away at a small laptop, previously hidden by the tall reception desk. "Izzy, here we are. You excited?"
"Yeah! Very! Already imagined millions of different scenarios of how the first day could go!"
Henry let out a chuckle, "don't overthink it, you'll do just fine around here."
Izzy nodded, taking a moment to reel his emotions in.
"Yep, you're all good, just the lift at the end, to your left." He smiled while pointing over to a now opening elevator.
Izzy barely thanked him before already rushing over to get inside. The doors closed, and he was left alone with his own thoughts for a moment. He couldn't wait to see his office, his desk, his colleagues. All of it was so exciting, but he calmed himself down. A few deep breaths later, he realised the elevator didn't feel like it was moving. He went to click on a floor number but there was not a single button in the elevator, nor an indication of what floor he was on.
As he twisted and turned, looking for any sort of feature that would even resemble a button, the doors opened. He pivoted to look out, only to freeze on the spot.
"What?"