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Mila James

"Mila, your coffee?" Willow taps the underside of a lukewarm to-go cup against the counter in front of me and giggles, "Your sketch can wait."

I look up at her and smile stiffly. "Thanks." I grab the cup and take a large mouthful, hoping it will wake me up a little. "Sorry, I was in my own little world. "

She nods "I can see that" her chocolate eyes warm me more than the coffee, and I can tell that she's worried about my expression "You'll get the next one, I'm sure of it."

"I've had seven interviews this week, Willow?" I groan with a tenderness in my chest. "Nobody wants a college dropout with no experience."

Willow pulls a rag across the counter, cleaning a recent stain after Mr Raymond spilt his midday spiced latte. "I keep telling you, come work for me?" She points at the menu beside me, her name written across the front. "It would be fun. I know it's not the money you want, but who knows, my dad might give you an advance."

I fold over the sketchbook in my palm and shove it onto the seat beside "I need stability," I sigh "Maisie needs stability," The ruminating thoughts of failure plague my mind, and once again, I'm left wrestling them with a blunt spoon "I can't just hand out coffee for a living, I need something more! I can barely afford to keep our electricity on, let alone buy her anything for Christmas"

Willow folds her arms and sighs, her expression perplexed yet thoughtful "I mean, these big-wigs don't just hire anyone," I knit my brows with a confused gasp "Hear me out," She pleads "Ramirez needs people beneath her that can tolerate her bullshit, right?"

"Right?"

"So really, she'll only hire someone who proves to her they can?" I try to remain listening, but the purpose of her words only seems to escape me. "You need to go back in there and make her realise you can do that? I mean, come on, you have more resilience than anyone. It's a fact."

I shake my head and roll my eyes, packing up my bag with a twinge of dissatisfaction. "She wanted experience, not resilience."

"The most experienced guy in the world can still be the wrong person, Mila," she asserts. "Experience comes with time, and if you make her believe that you're worth the time, you could be in with a chance?"

I smile softly "I don't think that's how she works," I clarify "She's a billionaire, she needs someone who knows what they're doing. I don't"

I stand with my backpack and throw it over my shoulder before swallowing the last inch of coffee from the mug "You could!" Willow pushes "I dare you to go back and try. For Maisie if not yourself."

"Bye Willow." I snigger, heading towards the door to make my way back home.

The good thing about your best friend owning a coffee shop, free coffee. Despite the endless drinks however, I'm only left with the feeling of emptiness. I didn't have the heart to tell Maisie I'd failed yet another interview, so instead told her I was waiting to hear back.

It's easy while she's young, but as she grows older, she only understands more. I hate that one day she'll blame me for sustaining our poverty, and I hate that one day she'll blame me for not making more of an effort.

The walk home is long, and when I turn the corner towards my street, I can't help but ponder on Willow's advice. I pause, staring at the damaged brick and contaminated sidewalk that welcomes me home. It doesn't feel like home, it never has.

My jaw clamps when debating going back to the Ramirez building again. It haunts me, the gold letters and fresh scent of perfume. With a flashing image of Maisie in my mind, however, I walk the other way, seeking the very woman I swore to never meet again.

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