—Hussein Nishah

This feeling was foreign, but I could've grown used to it.

To put it quite simply, I felt... good.

I studied the new reflection before me, for once not hating it. In this freshly-ironed outfit stood a woman ready to take on the world. Pencil skirt, red blouse, sheer hosiery and all.

Polished, professional, and expertly concealing the bags beneath my eyes from another restless night of tossing and turning.

I had fallen asleep sometime after five o'clock in the morning. My nerves of anticipation for this day ahead—my interview and, more importantly, meeting Julian—had not been abated by anything I had tried the night before.

Stuffing my belly full of farfalle pasta with spinach didn't help. Reading my old copy of Fahrenheit 451 didn't help. Making sure that said book was packed—along with everything else I needed for this trip—didn't help. And worrying about high altitudes certainly didn't help.

But I couldn't deny the surge of energy pulsing through me, despite my tiredness.

I finished applying the last of my makeup. By some miracle, it was fifteen minutes until noon, so I had a bit of time to spare before Laina appeared.

With fidgety fingers, I saved the addresses to the Tucson Telegram office and the airport in my phone, for what felt like the tenth time. I practiced my handshake in the air and mentally went over the bullet points of my resume.

I would get this job.

I just had to go in there confidently, first.

The familiar honking of Laina's car jolted me from the couch. In a bit of a haze, I threw my purse over my shoulder, grabbed my carry on bag, and ran out the door before I could overthink anything else.

...

"Take a left at the next light," I told Laina, with my eyes on the navigation screen.

We were just two minutes away then. My feet would not stop tapping on the floormat of the passenger seat. It was hot outside, too. Scorching hot. The pits of hell hot. I felt as though my makeup would melt off, but each time I checked the mirror, it held steadfast in place.

The voice of my navigation system reminded me that we were approaching the final destination, and there it was. The building was ten stories tall, wall-to-wall glass, and curved into a semi-circular shape. Laina pulled into the parking lot and cranked the air conditioning to the highest setting.

"You okay?" she turned to ask, with her voice full of caution.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," I replied too quickly.

"You got this, Brooke. I'll be right here waiting for you, when you get done." Laina reached over the center console to hug me. "Good luck!"

Nodding, I stepped out of the car and used my palms to straighten my skirt. As I stalked towards the entrance doors in the middle of downtown Tucson, I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on the sidewalk. Before I even opened the entrance doors, I caught a glimpse of the interior. The lobby was minimally decorated, with black, marble flooring that gave the appearance of being intentionally splattered with lines and blobs of white paint. White couches were littered with people chatting, creating a soft buzz that epitomized the fast pace of a media building.

It reminded me of Channel 4, except this was much larger and more impressive.

The receptionist was conveniently situated just to the right of the front entrance, and I waited by her desk patiently, as she transferred a call.

"How may I help you today?" The older woman beamed at me.

It wasn't until she smiled at me that I noticed the excessive amount of red paint on her lips. Her dark brown hair was sprinkled with grays and pulled back into a tight bun that sat atop her head. A black blazer covered her white button-up shirt, and her soft, blue eyes peered at me through thick-rimmed glasses. The nameplate on her desk read "Grace."

"I'm here to see Mr. Simon. My name is Brooke Fray," I said.

Grace's nails clicked on the keys of her computer for a moment, then she picked up the phone.

"Burt, Ms. Fray is here to see you. Shall I send her up?" Grace said into the line. With a quick nod, she hung up.

"He's ready to see you. Go straight down this hall," she motioned with her hand, "all the way to the end, take a right by that plant down there, and you'll find the elevators. His office is on the tenth floor."

Of course he would be on the top floor of a glass building when I was terrified of heights.

I thanked Grace and started strolling down towards the elevators. Once inside it, I pulled my phone from my purse, to make sure it was set to silent, and I saw a text from Julian.

Good luck, Brooke. I'm thinking of you. Fingers crossed. x

He remembered to wish me good luck, and at the perfect time. This idea alone calmed my shaking body, just long enough to compose myself, before the doors beeped open again. I was only on the fourth floor when a tall guy with dirty-blond hair stepped onto the elevator with me, holding two cups of coffee. He bent forward to press the number before he realized it was already illuminated.

"Top floor, too?" he asked, somewhat shyly.

I nodded.

"I haven't seen you around here before. My name is Eric." He gave me a gentle smile. His navy blue suit was accentuated by a skinny tie, and was rounded off with shiny, black loafers.

"I'm Brooke Fray. I'm here for an interview with Mr. Simon," I said.

"Oh, you're here for Burt? I can show you to his office. I was going there anyway," Eric offered.

"Thank you. That'd be great," I said appreciatively.

The elevator doors dinged and opened, effectively welcoming us to the tenth floor. Eric stepped off first, and I stayed close behind him as he led me down a small hallway. We passed a buzzing newsroom, where people were tapping away on their keyboards and chatting into telephones, before Eric knocked on the closed mahogany door that simply read, "."

"Come in," a deep, nasally voice called, and Eric turned the handle.

"Good man," Burt said, while happily accepting the coffee from Eric's left hand.

"I found Ms. Fray on the elevator." Eric nodded towards me.

"Oh! Ms. Fray! My apologies." Burt extended his hand, and I took it firmly. "Please, have a seat."

"You have nothing to worry about. Burt is a kitten in leopard's clothing." Eric winked at me before exiting the room, and Burt bellowed a laugh that shook his husky frame.

Burt's salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, and in need of a trim. He wore a dust gray button-up shirt and simple, black slacks.

"Ms. Fray, Ms. Fray, Ms. Fray." Burt shuffled through a small stack of papers to find my name.

I slid an extra copy of my resume across the desk between us.

"Looking for that?" I asked with a smile.

"Yes. I was." Burt seemed impressed with my preparedness. He skimmed through the bullet points, asking about my education and duties at previous jobs, especially Channel 4.

"I see that you resigned from Channel 4. Any particular reason for that?" Burt asked, his glasses slid down his round nose a bit.

I thought carefully about how to respond without lying.

"It was time for a change," I said, trying to steer the question in my favor. "I excel more at writing intensive duties, such as the ones I would have here."

"I spoke with your old manager before I went to lunch today, and he gave you a glowing review." Burt pressed his fingertips together in the shape of a triangle.

I smiled, shifting in my seat to sit a bit taller. Despite Caleb's malicious intervention that, ultimately, led to the end of my career at Channel 4, I was proud of what I had done there. I knew, if given the chance, I could do even better here. This could be the brand new start that I'd been waiting for all these months.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Brooke. We are severely understaffed," Burt started. "Normally, I would never do this on the spot. But I like what I see on paper, and I like what I've heard today. You've impressed me the most, out of all my interviewees so far, and I don't have a lot of time to waste. I'd like to take a chance on you, and offer you the position for Entertainment Columnist."

"I'm definitely interested." I cleared my throat.

"Great. Let's go over a few details about salary, and how early can you start?" Burt clicked his pen open.

"How early do you need me to start?" I countered.

"I could use you as early as Monday," Burt said, peering up through his glasses.

Monday. I would be back on Sunday night. I could do that.

"Monday actually works for me," I said after contemplating it for a moment.

"Jumping right in, I like that. Your hours will vary on some days, but be here at ten on Monday and we can go over everything then."

"That sounds great. Thank you so much." Relief and elation washed through me.

Burt stood, and I followed his lead. We shook hands and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling until I reached the elevators.

I texted Julian first. I got it!

The small heels of my black boots clicked on the sidewalk before I turned the corner, only to find Laina bopping her head to a song in the car. She noticed me just as I started to laugh, and turned her thumbs up and down, questioning how it went through her own version of sign language. I gave her a thumbs up and hurried to get in the car with her. The afternoon sun was brutal that day.

"He offered me the job! I start on Monday!" I exclaimed.

Laina squealed and threw her arms in the air before wrapping them around me. "I knew it! I knew you would get it!"

The clock on Laina's radio read 1:39 p.m. and my flight wouldn't take off for about an hour and a half. I had more than enough time to reach the airport and check in. This day was already amazing and I hadn't even seen Julian yet.

Our ride to the airport was spent mostly in a celebratory state, with Laina's music too loud and the both of us singing along animatedly. Before I knew it, my phone was prompting us to turn down the airport parkway.

Laina pulled up to the curb by American Airlines' check-in entrance, and popped the trunk for me to grab the small suitcase. We said goodbye and I thanked her profusely for spending her afternoon driving me around Tucson. Laina planted a swift kiss on my cheek.

"Enjoy yourself, Brooke. You deserve this. Let me know when you land!" Laina grinned and ran back to the car.

She honked three times in unison before pulling away, and I hurried into the airport.

The self-serve kiosk printed my ticket with just a swipe of my ID, and I found the words written across the top in asterisks.

I had never flown first class before, and had no idea what to expect. My stomach warmed and knotted at the thought of Julian requesting this special upgrade on my behalf. I nearly bumped into someone as I stared down at my ticket, and scrambled to apologize, before passing through security.

My gate was just steps away from the security area, and I took a seat by the front, awaiting the announcement that it was time to board. I pulled my phone out of my purse and noticed some texts and a missed call from Julian.

"Hey, babe," Julian answered happily when I dialed him. Babe.

"Hi." I had no idea why I was suddenly feeling shy.

"You got the job! Congratulations!" he nearly yelled.

"Thank you so much. It's such a relief!" I felt the growing smile on my face.

"Where are you?" Julian asked when beeping flooded through the intercom.

"I'm at my gate at the airport. You got me a first class ticket?" I asked.

"I arranged for you to be first class, yes. It's nothing," Julian said coolly.

"It means a lot to me. As if it wasn't already extravagant enough to arrange the ticket itself for me. I've never been first class. This is really exciting," I said. "Thank you so much."

"You don't have to thank me. I would do anything for you," Julian said, and I got the impression he didn't mean to let that slip. He tried to shift the focus quickly. "So, which flight number are you again? I haven't got the numbers in front of me at the moment."

I bit my lip. "1540."

A beeping sounded overhead.

Attention American Airlines customers traveling on flight 1540 to Orlando International Airport: In a moment we will begin general boarding. At this time, we ask that all first class customers approach, along with anyone requiring additional time to board.

"That's me," I said to Julian when the announcement was over.

"God, I'm so excited to see you, Brooke. I'll be there when you land. I... can't wait," he said.

"I can't wait, either! I'll see you in a few hours," I said, before hanging up and making my way toward the gate.

The attendant smiled at me, while clutching a handheld scanner to meet the barcode on my ticket. It beeped once and she motioned for me to continue through the doors, to board the aircraft. The whirling sound of air in the hallway ignited my nerves that were mostly overshadowed by Julian's voice just beforehand.

I stared down at my ticket and saw that my seat was . Directly overhead was an ample storage container for my carry-on bag, and I stuffed it in before taking my place in the plush, leather, oversized seat by the window, in the second row of first class. An attendant came over almost immediately to greet me, and offered me champagne. I could smell the sweet fluid through the uncorked opening and almost agreed.

"No, thank you." I blushed.

"May I get you another beverage then? Coffee, juice, soft drink?" she offered with a beaming smile.

"Ginger ale would be great, if you have it," I said. My stomach could've used the calming sensation.

"Right away." She hurried to fetch a cup for me, and returned with the chilled drink, along with a plate of snacks, a small pillow, and a thin blanket.

All of this fuss over me made me a bit uncomfortable, though it was taking my mind off the fact that we would soon be almost 40,000 feet in the air. I placed the small pillow behind my head and sipped on my drink to pass the minutes. The ice cold soda slightly burned on the way down, but effectively quenched the thirst I didn't realize I had.

While it was incredibly hot outside, the plane itself was chilly. I felt the drastic shift in temperature even more, since I was wearing just my skirt and sleeveless top. I unfolded the fresh, blue blanket and wrapped it around myself. While closing my eyes, to avoid looking out the window, passengers started to fill up the plane.

I didn't intend to fall asleep, but the excitement of the morning, combined with my poor night's sleep, finally caught up to me. Slightly startled by the abrupt sound, I was awakened to the pilot's voice overhead.

Attention passengers, please remain seated for landing.

How had I managed to sleep through the entire flight? I noticed my empty snack plate, and cup, had already been cleared from in front of me.

It was dark outside the window, but I could tell we were getting closer, as the lights of the plane runway grew larger. I started to feel the descent of the aircraft and shut my eyes tightly. My teeth ground against themselves while I gripped onto the armrests. Finally, I felt the connection to the ground, and let out a long breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. A couple of passengers clapped for the pilot's smooth landing.

Welcome to Orlando International Airport.

Here we go, I thought.

1. "We Found Love" (cover) by Boyce Avenue

2. "Sledgehammer" (cover) by Landon Austin feat. Charity Vance

3. "A320" by Foo Fighters

4. "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" (cover) by Michael Henry and Justin Robinett

5. "Walking on Sunshine" (cover) by Matt Purcell