Isabel is an aspiring comp-sci & finance major, and her dad is the leader of the Venice-Florence King Lords mafia. She loves playing basketball and loves the moon. But her new manager at the company, Apple, seems a little too familiar - could it be?
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𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
⌞ ° • • ° ⌟
I changed into some nicer clothes than I usually wear since today I wanted to have a good first impression for my interview. Black slacks, a white button-up, and a fitted blazer. I glanced over myself and decided to wear some simple jewelry and light makeup. A dainty gold necklace with a matching bracelet and earrings adorned my neck, wrist, and helix piercings.
For my dark-colored hair, I parted it down the middle; taking my wolf bangs and braiding them up to loop around my head, then tucked them neatly into a high ponytail. Lastly, for my makeup, I just put on some mascara, clear lipgloss, and bronzer in the corners of my eyes. Satisfied with how I looked, I checked my briefcase to ensure everything was there - my MacBook, several copies of my portfolio/resume, and a small notebook and pen. The secretary at the building there said that there was a very high chance that I could get the internship... I was so excited!
After a very long drive to the Apple Headquarters, I got out of the car, stretched a bit, and got my things. Briefcase in hand, I started for the lobby. The secretary there was on a call and typing. I walked up to her desk and gave a little smile. She looked at me and mouthed, "One minute."
I nodded my head in understanding and stood awkwardly there for a couple of seconds. She ended the call-
"Let me call Mr. Diaz-Torres." She typed in a couple of numbers that went over my head. A couple of 'Mmmhmms', 'yes', and finally, a "Yes, she is ready. Should I let her come through?" A pause. "Alright, she's coming right now!" The secretary, and as I saw from her nametag, Mrs. Johnson gestured me to go into a hallway.
⌞ ° • • ° ⌟
I entered Mr. Diaz-Torres' office, letting the door softly click behind me. He [Mr. Diaz-Torres] glanced up from his screens, which created a glare on his rectangular glasses.
"Hullo; just take a seat for right now, thank you." I complied and sat down. Something was bugging me, though. He looked vaguely familiar, somehow.
Abruptly, he stood up and gave a warm, contagious smile. I smiled in turn.
"Yes! Well, just follow me to the interviewing room. It's just across the hallway." We got there and he asked me a couple of questions. It went smoothly. Once we were done, he unexpectedly stood up... and growled?
"Is-a-bel!" He yelled. Automatically, I rose. The chairs' legs screeched behind me, and I quickly got into my fighting stance.
