The Beacon [h.s]

7

Nyla West

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walk through the door passing the man holding it open for me. I wait off to the side until he starts leading the way, I trail behind him.

"Don't be so nervous. Just relax and be yourself. I'll warn you now, Demond can be a little intimidating at first, but if you do as you're told, I'm sure this will go by smoothly." He turns his head to speak to me, leading me to two large black double doors. I'm starting to notice the common theme of black decor throughout this entire building.

"Do I really look that nervous? Thought I was doing a good job at hiding it." I chuckle as we both stand in front of the closed double doors.

"No, you're actually doing a pretty decent job. I'm just very good at reading people, and the fact that this is your first interview here helps too, anyone would feel nervous." He smiles down at me.

Unable to handle the intense gaze of his hazel brown eyes, I look to the floor instead.

"Well, good luck. I hope you get the job. It would be a pleasure to see you around here more often, Nyla." He grins and reaches a hand out for me to take.

"Thank you..." I take his hand but not shaking it just yet, "and you are?"

"Sorry." He laughs. "I'm Zayn." He introduces himself, I smile and shake his hand, letting go after.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Zayn." I gesture to the doors in front of us.

"Anytime." He proceeds to knock on the door.

"Come in!" A rough sounding voice exclaims from behind the door. With that, Zayn opens the double doors for me.

I smile once more at him before walking inside as he shuts the door behind me, leaving me standing in the middle of this room with a man sitting behind his desk in front of me.

"You must be Sol West, correct?" The man, who I'm assuming is Desmond, asks me. I can now see the intimidation Zayn spoke about.

He looks to be in his fifties or so. Grey hairs on his beard and mustache with wrinkles and bags under his eyes. He wears a full black suit with his brown hair slicked back. His forehead creases into multiple straight lines as he raises his eyebrows in question to me.

"Hello," I smile. "Yes, I'm Sol. But I prefer to use my middle name, Nyla, if that's alright." I tell him as I take a seat on the leather chair placed in front of his desk.

"Sure thing. Nyla, a wonderful name." He grins at me, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Thank you," my cheeks blush at the sudden compliment. "You're Desmond I presume?"

"Yes, owner of this company. I suspect the man who brought you here informed you of that?"

"Zayn. He did." I nod in agreement.

"Well it looks like you know everyone around here already, now don't you?" Desmond chuckles. I laugh along with him, shaking my head the slightest.

"Right, now that we are introduced to each other, let's get started, shall we? Is your resume in that folder?"

"Yes. Here you go." I hand him my folder, placing my phone under my lap. I made sure to silence it before I got into this building.

He accepts the folder, taking my resume out of it and placing it in front of him on his desk. My eyes avert down to the ground, my mind convincing me he's going to laugh in my face as soon as he reads my previous jobs. I try shaking the unwanted thoughts out of my head, focusing on him again.