It was a new morning, but something about it felt strange.
Sia sat on the balcony of her friend Rachna's house as a fresh breeze lifted her half-wet hair. She held her morning coffee tightly while Rachna rushed around the small room, getting ready for work.
Sia was trying—very harshly—not to think about what had happened back home.
It wasn't that she didn't know.
She knew everything.
Last night, at 1 a.m., Nisha had called Rachna's phone and told her the wedding had been called off. The groom had returned. Arjun hadn't created a scene. He had left quietly.
On the surface, everything looked fine.
But inside, Sia was breaking—piece by piece.
She knew she had crossed boundaries she was never supposed to cross. She tried not to imagine what her family was going through. She pushed the memories away, but thoughts were like water.
No matter how hard you tried to stop them, they always found a way.
"Sia," Rachna said, tying her hair, "make something for yourself before you leave for the interview. I'm heading out now. I'll be back by nine."
Sia's thoughts broke at her voice.
She smiled gently.
Rachna had been more than welcoming, even though she lived in a tiny one-room apartment. Sia knew she couldn't stay here long. She needed the job. She needed to move out as soon as possible.
She didn't want to become a burden.
She glanced at the clock.
9:15 a.m.
In two hours, she had the interview.
A sudden tension settled in her chest.
She had come all this way for the interview, but she hadn't prepared anything. Not a single thing. She didn't even know what kind of questions they would ask.
What skills do I even have? she wondered.
She had studied only until the first year of graduation. After that, life had forced her to drop out. She was fluent in English. She knew some basic computer work and a little data handling.
But beyond that?
Nothing.
By the time she realized how much time she had wasted thinking, it was already 10 a.m.
Regret hit her hard.
She could have called Rachna earlier. She could have asked what interviews were usually like. But now there was less than an hour left.
She rushed to get dressed.
She opened her bag, hoping to find something suitable.
Only kurtis and jeans.
Her heart sank.
She had always heard that formal clothes were important for interviews. But she didn't have anything formal with her.
Her phone was on now. Last night, Rachna had given her a new SIM. Sia hesitated for a moment—she didn't want to ask for more help—but she had no choice.
She called Rachna.
"Hey, Rachna," she said nervously. "I'm getting ready for the interview, but I don't have anything formal to wear. Can I borrow something of yours?"
"Oh, of course," Rachna replied casually. "Check the cupboard. Wear whatever suits you."
"Thank you," Sia said, relieved.
She opened Rachna's cupboard.
Most of the clothes were too western. Too unfamiliar. She had never worn anything like that before.
Digging further, she finally found a light pink shirt and a black formal pant.
The shirt was a little short and fitted, but she didn't have any other option.
She wore it.
The clock showed 10:30 a.m.
No time to tie her hair. No time for makeup.
She left her hair loose and rushed out.
She looked at herself in the mirror once.
If someone hires me based on this look, she thought bitterly, either they're mad, or the company has serious issues.
She didn't look like an employee.
She didn't look like someone going for an interview.
But time didn't care.
She ran downstairs.
She took a taxi and said quickly, "Bhaiya, Banker Street, Road No. 4. MEXXIM Textiles."
"Okay, madam," the driver replied.
During the ride, the taxi driver kept glancing at her through the mirror.
Her insecurity deepened.
She felt like she looked terrible. A tear welled up in her eye. The thought hit her hard—I won't get selected.
And I can't even go back.
The thoughts spiraled.
Her face turned pale.
11:15 a.m.
She was fifteen minutes late.
Her heart almost stopped.
"How much more time?" she asked the driver urgently.
"Two minutes more, madam," he replied.
Those two minutes felt like twenty hours.
"Madam, we've reached," the driver said.
She paid quickly and stepped out.
She looked up.
The building was enormous—towering, modern, covered in glass. For a second, it felt overwhelming. Sunlight reflected off the blue-tinted windows, making the structure look cold and unreachable.
A huge billboard displayed the company name:
MEXXIM
Sia's hope trembled.
She entered the office.
Everyone looked busy—moving fast, talking quietly, working with urgency. The place felt alive and intimidating at the same time.
She walked to the reception.
A girl greeted her with a professional smile.
"How can I help you, ma'am?"
"I—I'm here for the interview," Sia said. "For the assistant's assistant position."
The receptionist frowned slightly.
"I'm not aware of any interview today, ma'am."
Sia's heart sank.
"No," she said quickly. "There is an interview. I received a call."
Her voice shook.
Tears threatened to spill.
"Please check once," she requested softly.
The receptionist made a call, spoke briefly, and hung up.
"I'm sorry for the confusion," she said. "The interview is still going on."
Sia's breath hitched in relief.
"But," the receptionist added, "you're late."
"I'm really sorry," Sia said hurriedly. "I'm new in this state, so—"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the receptionist interrupted. "Our boss is very punctual. He doesn't consider candidates who are even five minutes late."
Sia felt the ground slipping under her feet.
"Please try to understand," she said desperately. "I've left everything to come here. I can't lose this job."
The receptionist maintained her polite smile.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am."
Sia stood there for fifteen minutes, trying again and again. She begged. She pleaded.
Nothing changed.
The answer stayed the same.
Suddenly, a young man walked past and announced loudly,
"Boss is coming. Everyone!"
The office instantly shifted.
People stopped talking. Everyone returned to their desks. The atmosphere turned tense and silent.
Only one sound remained.
Sia's quiet sobs.
The receptionist gently asked her to leave.
Sia stood there, frozen.
Was this it?
Had she run away from her life—
Only to lose everything here too?