I am going to be interviewed by Ms. Janette Ellis who's wearing too much bronzer and too much lipliner. Finally, someone who doesn't look like a freaking Renaissance painting and more like a cast member of Love Island. Her tanning isn't even at all and I can't help but stare at the slag line between her palms and the rest of her body.

“Where you lookin' at?” she asks, her face contorting into a grimace.

I feel like she knows she's done a messed up job with her tan and doesn't like that being pointed out. “I-I was, y'know, looking at your bracelet. It's soooo cute and sparkly. Reminds me of my little nieces back in the Philippines.”

She gives me a tight-lipped grin. “This reminds me of my deceased dad who got himself killed because he thought banging up the mafia boss's daughter while being married to another woman was a great idea.”

“Oh.”

After that insightfully awkward conversation, I sink on my seat and decide not to utter a single word until I am told to.

It takes a whole five minutes before she officially starts the interview. She begins with the baseline questions about my last job experience, strengths, weaknesses, and all that jazz.

“What position are you applying for?”

“Editorial assistant, Ma'am.”

She puts down her pen. “Our last editorial assistant was fired because he was being an arse—I'm sorry, I mean, transphobic to one of our staff here. Miss Tunisha Storm?”

Tunisha's last name is Storm? How fucking cool is that!

“I know her. Amazing woman.”

“Not for our former editorial assistant, though. He was as straight as a pole. He and Tunisha were supposed to do something but he found out that she was trans and started a hate bandwagon against her. Sending her photos, posts, and tweets that invalidate who she is.”

“Oof. That didn't end well, did it?”

“One evening, he who shall have his penis cut off was with his friends and found Tunisha at a nearby pharmacy. They started to harass her, getting all up in her personal space. Luckily, he got beat up by this tall and gorgeous black guy and reported him to the police. The news reached our CEO and while he was being interrogated, he was fired.”

Whoever that guy is, I'm glad he's not around anymore because I swear to the heavens I would've tied him up, cut his penis off like what Miss Janette said, and sold it off at the black market.

Also, Jared doesn't know that he indirectly helped me land this job by helping Tunisha!

I mean, hopefully, I land this job.

I should probably give him a token of appreciation or something if I ever get accepted.

Then she asks me what my pronouns are and if I am fine with compliments usually used for the opposite sex.

“My pronouns are he, him, and his. And, yeah, I'm fine with it.”

By asking those questions, I feel like Stargaze really wants to be inclusive and progressive. They're catching up with the changing times pretty well. It makes me happy that there are businesses out there who want to grow with their employees.

“Okay, that's it. We're done with the interview.”

I place a hand on my chest in surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. When can you start working?”

As soon as those words left her mouth, I was smiling from ear to ear. I pursed my lips, trying to contain my excitement. “Uh, now, I guess?”

“Nah. You will start working tomorrow. Get some rest first, buddy.”

I gave her my thanks and start packing my stuff inside my messenger bag before she called my name again. “Yes?”

“The thing I said about this bracelet being a reminder of my Dad? That was a lie.”

“He didn't die?”

“No. The truth is that he's alive and well.” She fiddles with the beads around her bracelet. “What this actually reminds me of is a failed marriage. This was what he gave me before marrying that… that prostitute only two weeks after seeing each other.”

“I-I'm so sorry to hear that.”

She dabs her fingers at the corner of her eyes. “No, it's okay. At least he learned his lesson when she stole his cash and car after their honeymoon.”

I just stand there by the door, not knowing what to say. This conversation has taken a great shift that my brain is having a hard time adjusting. Assuming that I do have a brain, that is.

I mumble a farewell, although I doubt she's heard me because she's busy sorting through countless files and folders piled on her desk. I also badly want to tell her that there is a lipstick stain on her right sleeve, but I just let it stay there, afraid that saying it might offend her, before making my exit and finally letting out an exhale of relief.

I send a message to our Telegram groupchat, asking them if they're available tonight for some drinks.

sophia the first: omg did u get the job??

kian not kean: yes thank GOD

sophia the first: i am soooo happy for you!!! idk if i can make it tonite tho, boss is in one of his moods :'( p.s. we will talk about the shawn situation some other time. he's not important.

I smile at that. Sophia is a sweetheart ninety-nine percent of the time and rarely does she get mad or annoyed. But when she does, she really shows it.

kian not kean: issok phi, thanks anyway ;)

I send a GIF of Angelina Jolie's Lara Croft blowing a kiss before passing out of the revolving doors and wearing a smile, mentally manifesting that the rest of the day will go well.