As soon as the plane landed, I rushed to the nearest toilet to check whether I still looked presentable.

Thankfully Mr I-Own-The-Airline had kept his word about not guy turning the plane around.

Despite my glee of having shown him up, I had a bad feeling about the whole ending to that scenario.

The guy was obviously one of those types that was used to getting his way and the fact that he agreed that easily unnerved me.

It was just one of those feelings I had which would only disappear once I got the a-okay to start working at Gloss magazine.

The females were empty surprisingly.

I did a once over at my appearance.

Pencil skirt up to the knees. White blouse tucked in. I tucked at it, making sure it was tidy. A pair of black heels on my feet.

I looked professional enough.

I took out the diamond broch my mom had given me right before the accident and pinned it on the blouse, close to my heart. It was in the shape of a star.

"For my little girl," she's said as she gave it to me. "May you have all the luck imaginable."

"Mom," I sighed, "I'm not a little girl anymore."

She'd smiled at me. "I know darling. I know. But you'll always be my little girl."

"And mine," dad said as he came into my room with their travel documents in hand.

I smiled at both of them.

They were going on their anniversary trip to the Carribeans for a week.

That was the last time I saw them alive, together.

The plane crashed three hours after takeoff and took my parents with them into the depths of the sea.

The only thing they recovered from the debris was my dad's watch, an heirloom from his grandfather and a picture of us when we went to the Swiss Alps.

The memories of that day still remained strong but I'd already let go of all the hurt from it, only sadness remained.

Checking my makeup, I applied another coat of the nude lipstick before I brushed the tresses of my brown hair that had strayed.

Checking the time, I had thirty minutes to get to Gloss Mag HQ before the appointed three o'clock meeting.

I caught a yellow cab as soon as I exited the arrivals terminal and gave him the address.

* * *

"What do you mean 'it's been cancelled'?" I snapped at the lady at the reception desk.

I checked my watch again, thinking I'd missed three o'clock already.

2:51pm.

The woman looked at me, confused as to why I was still there.

"Exactly that, young lady. Your interview's been canceled," she replied before chewing on a BLT.

"How can it be canceled? They just called me two days ago, telling me that the interview was here at three. As far as I know they haven't called me otherwise to tell its been canceled."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "Look darling, they just tell me what to do. I don't the details but its written here that your interview is canceled. Sorry."

I tried my best to return her calm tone. "Okay, but can you call them and ask them when I should come back?"

She stared at me, thinking it over.

"Please," I added.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do," she muttered as she picked up her phone and dialed whoever it was behind the phone.

How did this happen?

I checked my call history in case they'd tried calling me while I was on the plane.

None.

I just heard the woman talking and discussing the predicament.

I felt sorry for her.

She was just the receptionist and she had deal with people like me everyday, snapping at her.

She nodded into the phone, her brows creased together slightly.

"Oh," she said, her tone pitying. "Really?" She wrote down something. "Okay, ma'am. I'll let her know. Thank you." She hung up and looked at me.

"Well?" I asked. "When is it? Tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry young lady, but there will be no interview."

There will be ... no interview?

No interview?

"What do you mean, no interview?" I reminded myself she was just messenger and did not deserve my wrath.

"The interviews been canceled... indefinitely."

"Why?!?" I snapped, forgetting the whole 'she's just the messenger' deal.

"They had orders from the higher up," she replied.

Higher ups? I don't know any higher ups of anything.

"What higher ups?"

She slipped me the paper she'd been writing on just a minute before. "Ms Bryce told me to tell you that he'll be waiting for your call."

I nodded, knowing that whoever this person is could get me back my dream job.

I walked out after saying goodbye.

What happens now?

I unfolded the piece of paper she'd given me.

( #### #### ####)

Douglas Burns

No, he didn't!

Yet, the truth was staring back at me.

Mr Arrogant Adonis Hoot had gotten me fired from my internship even before I started.

Just then my phone rang.