I was running fast, dodging potholes and glancing at my shiny new watch. It was already eight in the morning, and I still couldn’t spot the building that housed the offices of “Eclectica.” I’d been to this neighborhood before, gawking at the drab gray high-rise more than once, but why couldn’t I find it now? And these darn maps had led me to the same spot for the third time.
I knew I should’ve taken a cab. Some kind old guy would’ve dropped me right at the front door, and I wouldn’t be ruining my brand-new shoes in this awful weather. But the traffic jams are just insane… Everyone’s heading to work, and no one cares that I’m trying to make it to an interview at a company I’ve dreamed about since I was a kid. Well, not exactly since I was a kid, but saying it like that sounds more dramatic, doesn’t it?
Truth be told, I never thought I’d be job-hunting so soon after finishing school. Or, more accurately, I knew I wouldn’t be. See, ever since I turned eighteen, I’ve been juggling studies at a big-city university, a job at a marketing firm, training, and competing in chess tournaments. And just when I wanted to take a breather, I got an invitation from the company I’d dreamed of… okay, fine, since tenth grade.
They didn’t just find me out of nowhere, though. Right before a national chess competition, I made a bet with my best friend and posted a test resume on a job search site. I didn’t even believe in it and had completely forgotten about it. Then came this unexpected call, right after I stepped off the podium with a gold medal around my neck. Well, now I owe her a year-long subscription to her favorite bakery.
“Good morning. This is Eclectica calling. We’re interested in your resume. Can you tell us if you’re still looking for a job?” The bright, melodic voice on the line was calming, but what they were saying had the exact opposite effect on me.
“Yes,” was all I could manage, still stunned by the call. Part of me wanted to squeal and jump up and down, while another part wanted to find a quiet corner and hide from everyone and everything.
“Then we’d like to invite you for an interview tomorrow. Does nine in the morning work for you?” The voice sounded cheerful, but I’d long since learned to recognize that it was just polite fakery.
“Yes, of course. See you then,” I blurted out without much thought.
Why was I so mad at myself in that moment? I’d just won a competition, and on top of that, I’d gotten an interview invitation from my dream company. But here’s the thing: it was already four in the afternoon, and I was on the other side of the country. In a resort town, no less. And the nearest tiny train station was hours away on foot. Unfortunately, trains, planes, and even buses weren’t about to adjust to my schedule.
So, after ditching my coach—Igor Nikolaevich—and sending him a quick text, I was on a train. Seven hours had passed since the call. Seven hours of running around and scrambling for transportation. Sadly, the only train that worked for me arrived pretty late. So, I didn’t get to the central station until eight in the morning.
I changed into a brown pantsuit right on the train, under the curious stares of my still-sleepy fellow passengers. I did my light makeup on the go, wrestling with an umbrella that kept trying to break free and somehow managing to drag my suitcase over my shoulder. I’m sure it’s no surprise that I looked awful—slightly wrinkled clothes and terrible bags under my eyes from a sleepless night that no amount of concealer could hide.
In short, I thought things couldn’t get worse, but then, right in front of the office building, there was a massive puddle. And… yup, I stepped right into it. But that wasn’t even the end of my troubles that day. Someone, for whatever reason, decided to show off their fancy car with a sharp turn. Guess where all the contents of that dirty puddle ended up? Of course, all over me. I couldn’t hold it together anymore, and tears started streaming down, destroying the last bastion of my dignity—my halfway decent makeup. What a sight I must’ve been…
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to,” the car’s owner jumped out, but I didn’t even want to look at him. And could I have, even if I wanted to? The crocodile tears were making it pretty hard to see.
“Shove your apologies up your ass,” I snapped, wiping my face with my sleeve and smearing mud all over it in the process. “Damn it!”
“Ksenia?” The shocked voice belonged to none other than Vlad—my childhood best friend and, coincidentally, Igor Nikolaevich’s son. Though I’m exaggerating a bit. We hadn’t been friends for a long time, and even back then, it was hard to call it that. Especially in the last few years—before he disappeared. “Hold on, I’ll fix this.”
“Do you seriously think that’s gonna help me?” I scoffed, eyeing the fifteen tiny wet wipes he was holding out, soaked through with more moisture than I already had on me.
“Damn. Come on, let’s go,” he said, pulling me toward a nearby shopping mall.
“What about the interview?” I really didn’t want to go anywhere with him.
“I think we’ll make it. You’re not gonna show up looking like this, are you?” He gave me a critical once-over.
“You know, I just might,” I said, straightening up defiantly. But for who, and in what state? Did I even need this?
“I know you well enough to believe that,” he said with a warm, kind smile, just like in the old days.
And for a moment, I actually forgot who I was standing next to. He’d seen me in worse shape plenty of times. Yeah, I used to love splashing through puddles in the rain. And yeah, I fell into a deep one once, right in the middle of my birthday party, wearing a flowery dress. So what? I knew he’d never let me live that down…
Oh well. Just a few more minutes, and I’ll be shining again.