The 22-year-old F/N Reiss is a dreamer, per say. Unlike many, they give it their all to pursue those dreams, doing absolutely anything and everything just to achieve them. But what if this young, promising journalist's one way ticket to success is a...
Quick A/N: This one's a lengthy one, so buckle up! ;)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Excuse me but are you sure you don't need help with that suitcase?"
"Oh yes I'll be fine, don't worry." I politely answered the taxi driver with a soft, reassuring smile.
Well that was a lie.
Let me set the scene: a middle class young adult is trying to lift up her suitcase from the trunk of the taxi she came with in a way too luxurious neighborhood according to their appearance. To be honest, I didn't exercise as much lately as work was all I really did and thought about, so my muscles were rather on the limpy side. Still, no matter the barricades before me, I was still so excited for today, as it was finally the day that will start an experience that could possibly lead to a life changing opportunity. Oh god, this whole scenery looks like a cheesy early 2000s rom-com.
I let out a few grunts trying to put down the heavy suitcase onto the ground, but those few grunts soon turned into loud groans of pain as I, possibly inevitably, dropped the suitcase onto my foot instead.
"I got it! I got it." I ached out in pain, trying to take care of the suitcase myself before the taxi driver could run to help me out.
"Please take care. Have a good day." the driver said, swinging the door of his car open to enter and start the engine. Soon enough, he started the car and left in the opposite direction from which we came from, leaving thick clouds of gas behind. I was now standing on the concrete sidewalk right before that familiar iron gate once again. Just the thought of me living in this house for the next week straight was making me feel ecstatic. But not only was that, but I was able to do what I loved most: journalism.
Well, at least while I'm not a part time manager.
I almost totally forgot about my deal with Jean. This whole idea, even though understandable to some extent, was still pure clownery to me. I still can't believe all the shit I do just for this one interview. Well, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.
I pushed the red button to announce my arival. I wonder if Marco left for his hometown yet, and if Jean would be the one to open the gate up for me. I couldn't think any further because the beeping sound and the sound of the gate opening filled my ears. I guess that they saw me through the security camera.
Immediately after the gate opened up, I started walking through the front lawn to the door. The door, per expected, were opened before I could even ring myself. Still, surprisingly, Jean was the one who opened them up for me. He was in what seemed like his casual attire, a plain white t-shirt paired up with some dark gray sweatpants. His hair was messy, eyebags really dark, and he radiated a rather strange smell, what seemed like a mix of sweat and axe body spray. It totally contradicted my outfit, which consisted of a black and white striped jumpsuit, complemented by an elegant black jacket and black heel boots.
