Dreamchaser

Another Bad Day

The alarm screamed on my nightstand, and I groaned against the harsh light. 6am was not how I wanted to start my day. I fumbled finding the off button through the darkness, my thoughts drifting back to last night's dream. He was there again. The tall, dark figure always following me from dream to dream ever since I could remember.

I knew it was just my imagination being attached to the same old character, but I couldn't help thinking they were a little too vivid. Many hours had already been wasted scouring the internet, Facebook friends, yearbooks, everywhere I could have seen him to no avail. Strangely, they had never ended in such a way before. Usually, full of adventure and mystery, a cold shoulder to cry on or maybe a little more intimate if it took my fancy... But he had never said he would see me soon, that was new.

Anxiety washed over me once again, but I didn't have time to be worrying about dreams today. It was an important day, at least as far as keeping a roof over my head and paying bills goes. I needed to ace this interview and stressing about my own imagination would only get in the way.

Shower, breakfast, re-read notes, try not to have a panic attack. Easy, right?

—

The journey was a mess, undoing all my hard work to stay cool and collected. Traffic along every street, red lights every five seconds, not to mention some idiot motorcyclist flying around a corner and nearly being wiped out right in front of me. It was already a disaster and the taxi had only just pulled up to the building with minutes to spare.

No, I could do this. I would do this.

I gathered my notes and resume, overflowing handbag stuffed with many unknown items long since lost to the unorganised bag gods and swung open the taxi door with too much enthusiasm. In my hurry I walked right into a hard body and sent my papers flying. I watched them be taken by the wind and glanced back at the stranger to give him a piece of my mind, but he'd already disappeared down the road.

I sighed feeling defeated, confidence now down the nearby drain along with my hard work. If I didn't get this job, it was over, moving back in with my parents was not an option.

Passing through the grand glass doors, I already felt out of my depth. The interior of the huge building was just as expensive and cold as it looked on the outside. Uncomfortable benches sat along floor to ceiling windows and a long, steel reception desk, filled with people hurriedly answering calls and attending to clients, was placed in the centre.

The area was buzzing with activity as people rushed in and out of doors, barely glancing at their surroundings with their noses deep into tiny screens. I gulped wondering if my last casual PA job would take me back regardless of whether the boss was being investigated for tax evasion or not.

Smoothing down the flowing, brightly designed skirt, feeling well out of place, I braved the walk to the desk. After waiting in line for what seemed like forever, I asked for Max Blakewell's office and heard the receptionists giggle as I was directed towards the already crowded elevators. Top floor. There was no way I could take the stairs without being flustered and hot when I arrived, my fears would have to take a break and endure the jolting ride to the thirtieth floor.

A large, glass desk faced me as I exited with a young woman sat behind it painting her nails. I wondered how a company could be making any money at all with such extravagant purchases on purely decorative furniture. Black and gold vases larger than my head, art hung beautifully along the swirling gold patterned wallpaper I was sure would be real, and red velvet benches looked as though they'd never been sat on.