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Chapter 4

The more I walk, the more my feet ache. I regret not looking just a bit harder for other clothes. What I'm wearing right now isn't even remotely comfortable, but I guess I just have to deal with it. Besides, what I'm most worried about is messing up. I just can't lie. I try to convince myself that technically, it's not lying. It's acting.

Just another thing I'm terrible at.

But it helps a bit, at the very least.

Either my air conditioning is broken, it's this jacket or just how nervous I am that makes me heat up and sweat. It's not just the suit that's uncomfortable, though.

These black heels might just be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn. I'm almost as tall as a small giraffe in them, to add onto the list of things making me self conscious right now.

As I drive, I notice just how loud and busy the city is. People bump into each other as they try to get past the crowd of others on the way to work. The sounds of people beeping their cars echoes constantly, and the traffic is insanely irritating.

I finally reach my destination, and grab my bag.

I try not to slip as I walk up the never ending steps leading to the enormous doors.

Well, here goes nothing...

It's been two minutes past the moment I stepped through the doors, and already I'm red as a tomato. People greet me as I try to find "my office", which is actually much harder than it sounds.

I can't pass a single person without wondering if they are the suspect I am about to interview. I secretly hope that something happens that will at least delay the interview, or give me time to calm down.

I have finally found my way to the office, and I make myself comfortable, or at least I attempt to.

The walls are paper white, and the carpet is a deep blue. The room is too big and the desk is too small. It feels empty. I open the blinds to see an up high view of the hustling bustling city below me. This room isn't exactly comforting.

I can still hear cars passing by, and the room is extremely cold.

I sit myself down in the seat. At least it's comfortable, other than my knees hardly being able to fit under the desk. I can see this isn't exactly made for people who are as tall as I am.

There's a knock on the door, and I instantly know who it is. I swing it open to see a short, red headed woman with a huge bag. A huge smile spreads across her face.

"Hello," She says. "I'm here for an interview with Joan Goodman."

I stare blankly for a few seconds, until I remember that's me, or at least who I'm supposed to be.

"Oh, yes. You must be Julia, take a seat."

Here goes nothing.