Chapter 4-Naked

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Dawn Turner

"Good morning, is this Dawn Turner speaking?" A voice asked through the speakers of my phone.

"Yes, this is her-- Me. I mean me." I laughed nervously.

"This is Carol Jensen. I'm the owner of the art gallery 'Funzel'. You submitted your resume a week ago, is that correct?" She asked. She seemed to have a kind voice which helped calm my nerves a bit.

"Yes it is. I'm in desperate need for a job and I love art so I really hope I can get an interview with you."

I actually did not care that much about art. And it's probably not a good idea to tell your potential future boss that you're desperate but I'm 24 years old now and still have no job so when my friend recommended this art gallery, I had to apply.

"Ah, yes of course. Does today at five seem good for you?" She asked.

"Yes, it's great. Thank you so much for this opportunity!" I made sure not to tell her that literally any time is good for me since I never leave my house anyway.

"Sure thing! Don't disappoint us." She laughed in a friendly way.

"I'll try not to." I replied confidently and ended the call.

I might be lazy but when it comes to making money, I'll give it my all. It's always been a dream of mine to be able to support my mom and provide her with all her needs since she spent so many years raising me up without a dad.

I might not show it a lot but I'm very grateful to have her in my life.

"You got the job?" My mother asked, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Not yet, but I did get an interview! Now all I have to do is try and not mess it up." I shrugged, trying to hide the fact that I was actually incredibly nervous about this.

Not only have I been born with incredibly bad luck but also after the whole 'Fallen angel is trying to kill me' fiasco, I've been paranoid at all times and felt more attached to my mother. I know he's still able to get to me with my mother around but it made me feel relieved to know that she was not at her house all alone with a certain fallen on the loose. At least now I can keep an eye on her.

Also I may or may not have bought a pan for every room in my apartment.

My mom thought I was going crazy but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"Did you pick your outfit for this interview?" My mother asked me. I shook my head, preparing myself for what's about to come. If anyone knows my mother, it's me. She won't leave me alone until she is satisfied with what I wear, how I wear it and how I'll style my hair while wearing it. "Are you up for a complete makeover?" She asked with a huge smile on her face.

"If I said no, would you still proceed to give me that makeover?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yup!" She held my hand and dragged me up to my room.

This has got to be every child's nightmare. There's no denying that there's a whole generation gap between parents and their kids so when they offer to help you get dressed, you just know shit is about to go down.

"Mom, I look like a stripper." I stated with a frown stamped on my face. I can tell she's trying her best to give me a modern day makeover but she went a little overboard.

"You do not!" She exclaimed then looked at my outfit again. "Okay, maybe a little. Try these on then." She handed me a black shirt matched with tight pants. After that, she gave me black leather ankle boots. "And to break the whole all-black look we got going on here..." She handed me a pink shoulder bag next.

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