Dan spread the papers out across the table like they were more important than they really were.
They weren't anything special. Just a few stapled sheets, printed in plain black ink, the same kind of form anyone could pick up at the front desk. Name. Address. Phone number. Work history. References. Skills. The questions were simple, but the longer he looked at them, the more they felt like they were asking something harder than what was written.
He had already filled most of it out at the Mayor's Office, but after bringing it back to campus, he couldn't stop thinking about how empty it looked.
Koa leaned back in his chair across from him, balancing it on two legs like he always did even though the sign on the wall clearly said not to.
"You've been staring at that thing for like ten minutes," Koa said.
Dan didn't look up.
"I'm checking it."
"You checked it already."
"I'm checking it again."
Koa snorted.
"It's an application, not a final exam."
Dan finally looked up.
"It's worse than a final exam."
"How?"
"At least on an exam, I know the answers."
Koa grinned.
"So what's the problem?"
Dan tapped the paper with his pen.
"This part."
Koa leaned forward and squinted.
"Work history?"
Dan nodded.
"I don't have any."
"You worked at the bookstore that one summer."
"That was in high school."
"It still counts."
Dan hesitated.
"…Does it?"
"Yes."
"You're just saying that."
"Yeah," Koa said. "But write it anyway."
Dan sighed, then lowered his pen and added the line, writing slower than he needed to.
Bookstore assistant.Summer.Charlotte Amalie.
He stopped there.
The word Charlotte made him pause for a second longer.
Koa noticed.
"You miss it?" he asked.
Dan shook his head.
"…Not really."
"Then why'd you write it like you're signing a treaty?"
Dan almost smiled.
"I don't know."
He flipped the page.
References.
He frowned again.
"I don't know who to put here."
Koa shrugged.
"Your professor."
Dan looked up.
"…Dr. Matthew?"
"Yeah. He's the one who told you to apply, right?"
Dan hesitated.
"I don't know if I'm supposed to put him."
"Why not?"
"What if they ask him something?"
Koa stared at him.
"That's the point."
Dan looked back down at the paper.
He tapped the pen against the table once, then twice.
"…He'll tell the truth."
Koa raised an eyebrow.
"And that's bad?"
Dan didn't answer.
After a second, he wrote the name anyway.
Dr. MatthewNorthern Marianas College
He stared at it for a moment.
It looked official.
Too official.
Like he was pretending to be someone he wasn't yet.
Koa leaned forward again.
"What's next?"
Dan flipped the page.
Skills.
He stopped.
Koa read it over his shoulder.
"Oh, that one's easy," Koa said. "Put 'smart.'"
Dan gave him a look.
"That's not a skill."
"It should be."
"They don't care if I can read books."
"Put writing."
Dan hesitated, then wrote it.
Writing.Research.Organization.
He stared at the words.
They looked… small.
Not wrong.
Just small.
A chair scraped behind them.
Dan looked up.
Aaron was walking past their table, holding a stack of papers under one arm, talking to someone from the student council. He stopped when he noticed them.
"You two look serious," Aaron said.
Koa pointed at the application.
"Future government employee over here."
Aaron raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Dan shifted in his seat.
"…I applied at the Mayor's Office."
Aaron blinked once, then stepped closer.
"You're serious?"
"Yeah."
Aaron set his papers down on the table.
"Let me see."
Dan hesitated, then slid the form toward him.
Aaron read it quickly, his eyes moving faster than Dan expected.
When he finished, he tapped the page once with his finger.
"You're going to get rejected."
Dan felt his face heat up.
"…I know."
Aaron looked up.
"No, I mean you definitely will."
Koa laughed.
"Wow. Thanks."
Aaron ignored him.
"You don't have experience," he said. "You don't have connections. You don't have anything that makes them pick you over someone else."
Dan swallowed.
"I just wanted to try."
Aaron studied him for a moment, then nodded slightly.
"That's not bad," he said.
Dan blinked.
"…What?"
Aaron pushed the paper back toward him.
"Most people don't try at all."
He crossed his arms.
"But if you want to get into a place like that, being right isn't enough."
Dan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Aaron gestured around the room.
"You ever notice how meetings actually work?"
Dan didn't answer.
Aaron continued.
"The person who wins isn't the one with the best idea. It's the one people listen to."
Koa smirked.
"He's got you there."
Dan ignored him.
"So what am I supposed to do?" he asked.
Aaron shrugged.
"Get involved."
"I am involved."
"You sit in meetings," Aaron said. "That's not the same thing."
Dan felt the same frustration he'd felt before, back in the forum, back in the classroom.
"I don't know how to do what you do," he said.
Aaron tilted his head.
"I know."
That made Dan pause.
Aaron picked up his papers again.
"You think too much," he said."You wait too long.You say the right thing after everyone stopped listening."
He looked at Dan one more time.
"If you want that job, you need people to remember your name."
He turned and started to walk away, then stopped.
"Oh, and put me down as a reference if you want."
Dan blinked.
"…Seriously?"
Aaron shrugged.
"You showed up. That's more than most people."
Then he walked off, papers under his arm like he had somewhere more important to be.
Koa watched him go, then looked back at Dan.
"Well," he said, "that was intense."
Dan looked down at the application again.
His handwriting.His name.His empty work history.
Slowly, he picked up the pen again.
Under references, he added another line.
AaronStudent Council PresidentNorthern Marianas College
He stared at it for a second, then let out a breath.
"You really think I'm getting rejected?" he asked quietly.
Koa leaned back in his chair again.
"Oh, absolutely," he said.
Dan nodded once.
"…Yeah."
He gathered the papers together and tapped them against the table to straighten them.
"But I'm turning it in anyway."
Koa smiled.
"That's the spirit."
Dan stood up, sliding the application into his bag.
For a moment, he felt the same nervous weight he had outside the Mayor's Office.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Just the feeling that he had stepped onto something that didn't move the way he expected.
And there was no going back to pretending he didn't see it.
Not anymore.