Chapter 4: My New Job

LILY

"It's not Buckingham Palace, but it's all yours, Lily," Beth laughed, clapping dust from her hands after helping me move into my scant possessions. "I tried my best to make this place look like a home. Welcome to your new humble abode. I'm sure you'll make it feel like a palace in no time."

I could still hear her laugh as I thought about how she had helped me find a place to live for a moment. The apartment is on subsidy, but it was the only flat I could afford. Even though it wasn't Buckingham Palace, it gave me a place to put my life back together.

"Thanks for helping me with this, Beth," I said as I settled into the worn-out couch.

Beth, always the optimist, stood by the door, her gaze following mine. "Sure, it's not the lap of luxury," she started, giving me a half smile. "But it's a roof over your head, right?"

"It's... perfect, Beth," I found myself saying, surprising myself at the conviction in my voice.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Only you could find perfection in peeling paint and worn-out furniture, Lily."

"Isn't that what life is all about, Beth?" I said, "Finding beauty in imperfections, finding hope in despair, and creating stories out of the mundane."

Beth looked at me for a moment, her eyes misty. "You're one of a kind, Lily White," she said softly. "Come on, let's help you unpack."

We gathered the boxes Beth and Aunt Alice, her mother, grabbed from the White's residence. I was thankful that she could retrieve all my belongings from them before Mother could even throw them in the trash.

When we were done, we grabbed takeout and ate on my worn-out couch. As we sat there, enjoying the comfort of greasy takeout and the familiar scent of cardboard, Beth leaned back and sighed. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "despite everything that's happened, I have a feeling that this new chapter in your life is going to be something extraordinary."

 I smiled at Beth's words, feeling hopeful. It was reassuring to have someone like her by my side, reminding me that there was still potential for something beautiful to emerge.

For three days, my tiny apartment always woke me up in the morning with a cacophony of birdsong from the one tree outside my window. Meanwhile, in the afternoons, Beth would occasionally drop by with a homemade lunch.

Her presence was a welcome interruption, anyway.

"Lily, have you considered writing about your own experiences?" Beth asked while we were digging up our pasta.

I paused momentarily, twirling my fork in the pasta, contemplating her question. Writing about my own experiences had never crossed my mind before. I'd submitted a bunch of my scripts to every production company, but none had replied to me.

Faking a smile, I answered, "I suppose I do. Each character I create has a bit of me, their struggles, their victories... they mirror my own."

"You know, Lils..." She turned to me, and her hand offered a comforting squeeze on my shoulder. "Rejection is tough, but it's not the end. It's just a test of how badly you want it. And I know you; you're not one to back down."

"I know, and I'm not giving up, Beth."

"You are talented, sis. But why don't you try to write relatable stories? I think editors would have more interest in that than fictitious stories. Look, there's an open position for a scriptwriter at a network company. Why don't you try it?" Beth suggested.

She then handed me her phone with a job posting. As I read the news, a network and production company, the hub of the city's film industry, was hiring. It was, indeed, a scriptwriting position for a new movie.

"Hauss Productions is the top in the industry, Beth. The chance of being seen by them is zero." I bit my lips, looking hesitant.

"C'mon, Lils! You've got talent, and I've read your best stories!" Beth supported me, trying to relieve me of my doubts. "I know you can do it!"

"But what would I write? They're looking for new stories—fresh ones, to be exact." I shifted my gaze to her, looking dejected. "I've only written short stories, and most do not appeal to the masses."

Then Beth's voice chirped in excitement, "Oooh! You know, I've got hots for my boss right now. Why don't you write about a work romance between an employee and a boss?"

My brows furrowed. "Ah, what? That's the most cliche plot I've read, Betty."

Beth's eyes narrowed. With her lips pursing, she said, "I know, and people still dig it, Lily! You can change some aspects, add more thrill to the story, you know."

"Are you serious about this? Are you sure they'd read my work? I don't think it's an award-worthy piece, Beth," I explained, my shoulders slumping on my couch.

"Who cares about the awards? If I know these prod companies prefer buzz-worthy scripts, you know," Beth added.

In resignation, I breathe out. "I'm not sure about this, but I suppose trying won't harm."

*****

Standing outside the massive Hauss Enterprise building, I felt a shudder from the evening's chilly air. The tall glass building, a symbol of achievement and aspiration, reflected the hopes and aspirations I carried within me. Even the sheer magnitude of the situation caused my heart to race as I entered the lobby.

'You're at the first step to your dreams, Lily.' I smiled from ear to ear as I looked around, taking in the company's magnificence.

Quickly, I checked in at the reception desk and was directed toward the recruitment office. As I walked down the hallway, all I could see was the bustling surroundings of the office. Instantly, I was excited.

The sound of ringing phones and the chatter of employees filled the air, creating an atmosphere of productivity and ambition. The energy was contagious, fueling my determination to make a lasting impression during my interview.

But as I opened the door to the office, I was surprised.

Across the desk sat Lindsay Anderson, Mia's close friend, her familiar face pulling me back into the memories of when I still stayed at the White's residence. A cruel smirk danced on her lips as she looked at me.

Lindsay recognized me.

"Lily White, right?" She confirmed, her smirk widening, "I remember you. You're Mia's sister. Anyway, you've come for the janitor's position?"

"What?"

"Well," she drawled, leaning back in her chair, her eyes glinting maliciously, "Your resume was included in the list of interviewees, Miss White.

"A cleaner, but how? I applied for the scriptwriter position, Miss Andersson," I reiterated. The words hit me like a punch, a cruel twist of fate. I had come here to apply for a specific job and was now offered a cleaning job.

She retorted, "I apologize for the confusion, Miss White. There has been a mix-up with the applications. However, the janitor's position is currently our only available opening. You can take it for a moment while waiting."

It felt absurd, but I knew I didn't have much choice since I needed a job to pay for my rent. "I'll take it, Miss Anderson."

Lindsay's face initially exhibited a look of surprise before quickly assuming a smug grin. "Oh-okay. I'll let the head of the cleaning department know. Your shift will start at six in the evening. It'd be appropriate if you're already wearing your work clothes."

"Thank you. See you tomorrow," I replied courteously and headed toward the door.

As I left the recruitment office, the odd encounter filled my mind with mixed feelings.

'How did my resume mix up with the janitor's position?'