Greenwood, also nicknamed High Town is where Hazalu’s most successful companies and individuals dwell, and it certainly looks the part. The streets are the cleanest I have ever seen, the buildings the tallest, and everywhere I look, luscious green plants are sprouting. Amongst all the beauty, what strikes me the most is how quiet the town is, you can clearly hear the sounds of numerous shoes clicking against the ground and the soft chatter from pedestrians.

Bisari is a noisy city, seeing as it is the most populated in all of Hazalu. I have only ever considered the suburbs as the only place capable of granting some peace and quiet, but it seems, the rich can also buy some peace and quiet in the metropolitan area. 

Ever since my walk from the train station to Centurion Security Agency began, I’ve hardly seen cars or motorbikes, rather an abnormal amount of bicycles, hoverboards, and air rides. It’s all so clean and proper and weirdly intimidating, though equally exciting.

Using the Toogle map, I’m able to walk my way easily to Centurion, a twelve-floor building made with black glass and steel. The receptionist checks me in and directs me on where to go. Squeezing my toes to help steady my feet in Pa’s choice of shoes, I continue in that direction, through a small gathering of other professionally dressed individuals and a slew of compliments sling my way.

I’m more accustomed to looks of disdain from strangers, never ones of admiration. Men are smiling at me and checking me out, women complimenting my outfit, it’s all new to me, I feel like someone put me up front and center on stage again, only this time, no one is laughing at me. I have only ever received compliments from my family and Timi, every time I get smiled at or get complimented, I have no clue what to do in response. 

I travel up two floors of spiral stairs, avoiding the crowded elevator, and a few minutes later, another receptionist is taking my details and ushering me into a waiting room where a few other women are waiting. They all seem to be in good spirits, quietly chatting as they wait their turn, some pass me a smile to welcome me, others acknowledge my arrival with a nod.

“Naiguso,” the pretty blonde lady sitting next to me greets with a cheerful smile and I nod.

“Naiguso.”

“I'm Sara,” she offers a hand and I shake it.

“Lu–Lucy,” I say and pure fright crawls up my skin. 

I’m never going to get used to referring to myself with my mother's name, kind of odd and a bit creepy.

“I haven’t seen you at one of these before, first time?”

Swallowing, I nod. I’m careful about how often I speak, some part of me feels as though they’d be able to tell my gender by the tone of my voice, which might be giving too much credit to the one time I sounded like a grown man, but still, everything time I speak, I feel slightly vulnerable. 

“That’s cool. We all sort of know each other cause we frequently show up to interviews at the same places, not a lot of job opportunities in security for us girls, we have to stick together right?” She winks at me and I attempt to match her friendly smile but my face feels frozen, my insides are squeezing from guilt.

I’m stealing from them, aren’t I? This whole lie will steal an opportunity from a deserving woman who has worked hard to get here. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have let Pa and Minnie talk me into this. The gender pay gap is a vile thing that women battle with every day. And here I am, a man, stealing what little opportunity they have. There’s no way I’m getting away with this.

“Lucy Tawon?” a lady calls.

“Yes.” I jolt from my seat, pulling at the helm of my jacket.

It just crossed my mind to walk away from this lie and these steps I’m taking forward are betraying my logic. 

To turn back or not to turn back?

To turn back or not to turn back?

“This way.” The seemingly giant lady gestures into her office, training her eyes all over me. My shoulders tense, the anxiety, wrecking my wit. 

Her stare is a long hard one and I usually got that once they’ve seen my file and deduced that I’m an incubus. Now I’m not so sure why the hard stare is there. She’s a werewolf, from her scent, an alpha. Perhaps she can smell the incubus in me. Oh shit… does she think I am a succubus? But even my scent will give away that I’m an incubus, I smell nothing like Minnie. I should have bought a pheromone perfume. Ugh, this is driving me insane!

“Please sit,” she gestures toward the chair opposite her table as she takes her seat.

“Thank you,” I sink into it.

“Miss Tawon you have a very impressive set of skills. I was intrigued, to say the least, which to be honest is the only reason why you are in here. Centurion normally doesn’t open its doors to individuals with no experience.” She leans back into her seat, arms crossed. “So, tell me something that isn’t already in your folder?”

I exhale quietly, glad the first thing out of her mouth isn’t a fact check of gender. “I train a lot and work a lot, when I’m not working, I’m helping my father out with his vegetable business, that’s it.”

The silence stretches between us and fear grips me. You’d think after all the time I’ve spent going to interviews I’d be better at this question, but I hate talking about myself, I always mess it up and say the dumbest shit.

“I have to be honest here, Miss Tawon. Women that look like you don’t fit well with this sort of job,” Miss Grace says. 

Ah… that is what the look was about. I don’t need her to further elaborate, I might not be a woman, but I know what it is to be othered for my petite appearance, and yes, people like me scarcely aim for jobs like this. It feels good to not have my race be the center of their disapproval though. 

“Security isn't a career path I picked because it looks cool, Ma’am. I want to protect people in ways I wasn't able to protect myself when I was younger, and I have committed my life to doing just that.”

“When you were younger?” She leans forward.

“I was bullied a lot. And somewhere along the line, fighting back became a means of dwarfing my insecurities. It feels good to know I can hit back.”

A little smile spreads across her hard face and she nods once. “Must have been tough for you.”

I lower my gaze. Her interview process is quite different from what I am used to, or maybe she’s different with me because she perceives me as a woman. I nod once, staring down at my fingers for another minute before lifting my face. The next few questions are less personal and more tactical and we breeze through them easily.

“It says here you have trained with firearms?”

“Only at shooting ranges, yes, but in the past, I've had to use a taser to subdue an attacker.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Terrified,” I manage a small laugh, “it was the first time I physically harmed someone in that way. I'd do it again in a heartbeat if the circumstances were the same.”

***

My body wouldn’t stop shaking as I exit the building. The cold air brushes against my skin and my smile broadens. This is the first time after an interview I feel hope. Not once did she look at me with irritation, no one asked me to leave the office halfway through the interview, and I was actually given a chance to speak and ask questions. I’m in high spirits as I walk back to the train station, finding it impossible not to smile. 

I dig out my phone to text Pete. I want to tell him everything, and maybe catch up for drinks later this evening: The interview went so well! I’m gushing! There might be hope!

It marks sent and I keep staring at the screen, in hopes that he’d text back. A few minutes pass and his text message doesn’t come. I’m back on the train and in the VIP cabin before I decide to text him again. 

How's your day going?

Once again, I’m staring at the sent mark, seconds pass and then minutes and Pete doesn’t text back. Instead, a call from Pa comes in. I pick it up on the first ring excited to tell him all about my interview.

It takes an hour before I arrive back home. I don’t have time to linger as I dash in and make the switch from Ma’s clothes to mine, clean off the make-up, and hurry back on my bike. I need to be in the pink district for my part-time job. I keep the phone on the holder in front of me just so once Pete texts back I can pull aside and reply immediately. 

It’s 11 pm before I’m showered and back in bed after a long evening of deliveries and I’m staring at the screen, wondering if I should text him again. I have no shame in triple texting, but I don’t want to be a bother. Maybe something happened with work. Or he could be filming. This is weird. We’ve only texted a few times and I already miss texting him.

Hei, just got home from work. Have you eaten? I send the third text.

Hei, hope you aren’t overworking yourself, just checking in. I send the fourth text an hour later.

 Hei, it’s 1 am, so I’m turning in. Sleep well. I send the fifth text.

It’s 2 am and I’m still staring at my screen, hoping he texts back. This is pathetic, Luke. What the fuck are you doing? I always know when to take a hint, especially men. Most of the men I have had situationships—Mostly humans and some werewolves never want it made public that they fucked an Incubus, let alone like one. I can always tell when they are ready to ditch me, and I ditch them before they can, maintaining some of my self-respect.

It's not like anything ever happened between Pete and me, I highly doubt he found me attractive enough to even want those things. It’s just from the way he spoke to me, the way he… never mind… I just thought… what did I think? That we could be friends? That he could like me? 

Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe he’ll call tomorrow with an explanation. 

I check his social media and that of his agency and there is nothing to worry about. I make a few blog and social media updates wishing him good health and successful filming, then against my better judgment stay up till 4 am making fan edits.

***

It's Tuesday, then it's Wednesday and Pete's reply never comes. I get it now, all of that was some sort of weekend excitement. I have no qualms with that. He was reeling from a breakup and needed some kind of distraction and I was there, something to play with for a weekend. Now he is back to his life in wherever the fuck he lives.

I am not upset, these things happen. I’m moving on and keeping my eyes focused on getting employed by Centurion because I did get a call yesterday, qualifying for the next round of the interview screening.