Vibe Board [https://www.canva.com/design/DAGSm6K_XOE/e-va-5wg7ZUwIaY5LolRaw/edit?utm_content=DAGSm6K_XOE&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link2&utm_source=sharebutton]
Odessa~
It's been six hours since I emailed Mr. Merikh Nova, the prodigy of Nova empire. My fucking ass, he has absolutely zero professionalism or else why wouldn't he reply to my email? Unless of course, it's in his spam folder and he is too ignorant to click on that.
So, I check my interview request again.
Everything is perfectly written then what's so wrong? My roommate, Estelle asks me if I want to eat some ramen, at ten thirty-two post meridiem [https://img.wattpad.com/ebfc33e132eedaa3f6d7517b3e0571baca7cb0ce/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4839636b74747344654a795a57513d3d2d313438313433383030362e313766623532336462626333363631643138373837333936393733392e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Everything is perfectly written then what's so wrong? My roommate, Estelle asks me if I want to eat some ramen, at ten thirty-two post meridiem. I give a look that clearly states "You will die at this rate if you keep eating instant food at night." She rolls her eyes and takes out a packet of instant ramen anyway. Yeah, well, she will be moving into her own apartment next year, guess I won't be responsible for her death then. A sudden wave of sadness hits me. I have known Estelle since my senior high school life. From living next door to us moving together in a hostel during our university lives. Then I bought this apartment after I got a job, we've been living here for seven years now.
Estelle is a fashion designer, she recently bought an apartment along with her fiancé, whom she will be marrying next year and have a happily ever after. As if those fictional love lives ever existed in this cruel reality. But who am I to burst their bubble?
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She just finished cooking her unhealthy recipe and sits beside me while sipping on the ramen soup. "Who are we slaughtering missy? She asks.
I narrow my eyes at her, "You will end up in jail someday."
She clicks her tongue, "At least I have my prince charming to bail me out, who do you have? Artificial Intelligence?" she smiles sweetly at me. Makes sense with the taunting, I haven't dated in a while and rejected all the guys who tried to sway me away. Work has been so busy with these people making tourism spots everywhere in the world, I keep on travelling from countries to countries. None of my past boyfriends seemed to like the idea of long-term relationships because they couldn't get into my pants often. Men are bunch of horny fools with or without a relationship.
"I have a brain to keep me out of jail in the first place, Est," I reply smugly.
She snorts, "What are you doing?"
I look at my laptop screen and exhale, "You've heard about Zyon, right?"
She takes a moment to recall and exclaims, "Hell yeah! That place can get it."
I chuckle, "I know. I am assigned to interview the architect behind the project. But that guy doesn't seem to reply to my email."
She looks at the computer for a while and gapes at me, "Did you...forget your professionalism like you forgot your last boyfriend's birthday?"
"Excuse me?"
She points at the screen. Oh. Shit. Apparently, I did forget my professionalism. I accidentally sent him the interview request using my personal email. Catastrophic. If he notices this and refuses to reply because of MY lack of competence, I am going to get scolded like a five-year-old again.
She sets her bowl down, snatches the laptop from me and quickly deletes the email. "You have to be more careful missy. You know what happened the last time you made a silly mistake," she looks at me with sympathy.
Yes, I remember how ill-treated I am, even though I made the news portal grow all while sacrificing my own peace and desires.
Fuck this. I am going to contact the architect's assistant and interview him tomorrow.