Just a few more reports, and you’d be ready for the interview, you assured yourself, even though that’s what you’d said three reports ago. Maybe this was why your boss was insisting you needed an assistant. At last, you forced yourself up and away from your desk, smoothing out your skirt and paging the receptionist. You opened your planner, slipping the bookmark there to the back cover to double check the time, and asked the receptionist to send the candidates to your office instead of the conference room. If you were going to have an assistant, they should bear witness to the controlled chaos of your small office as soon as possible. It wasn’t until you heard footsteps down the hall that you realized in horror that one of your postponed tasks for the morning was actually reading the CV’s and resumes for your candidates. Fine, you figured, we’ll wing it.
Hyunjin, your boss’ assistant, brought each candidate into your office. Of course, the first didn’t bring a copy of her resume, which you got to self-righteously hold against her. The next candidate was over-eager and miserably inexperienced. The third fully admitted to having a criminal history directly related to the industry and you had to politely stop her then and there. You were developing a massive headache when you realized you’d only been interviewing for an hour now. Hyunjin looked just as tired when he brought in the next candidate, and you hoped no one noticed your bewildered double-take.
Changbin?
He dressed modestly smart with a blazer over his turtleneck, and his resume portfolio was a humble dark brown leather with no monogram or name plate on the front. You were quietly impressed at how polite he was, how he waited for you to finish each question and had succinct and thoughtful answers for each, even for questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. He even shook your hand and thanked you before leaving your office.
The second he was gone, however, you were distressed and furious. Did he not recognize you? Did he not remember you? Surely, he would’ve recognized your name, how could he not? High school had been a long time ago by now, sure, but you remembered the names of every bully you ever came across, was it too ridiculous to expect them to do the same for you?
It’s not like you were the ugliest kid in school, but you certainly didn’t have an easy time. You just didn’t really know how to embrace or improve your looks. You never touched a styling product or a makeup brush until college, and that was at the insistence of good friends who noticed you secretly pining over the skills needed to look effortless. The first pair of heels you wore were to accept your degree, and now you wore them nearly every day. Your hair was tamed, your nails were done, and you were healthier now that you did more than just walk from class to the dining hall to bed over and over.
