Cristine nervously looked at herself in the mirror. She is wearing a long-sleeved white blouse and a pair of black slacks. She grabbed her black blazer on the bed and wore it on top of the blouse. She once again looked at her reflection and smiled in contentment. She had prepared very much for this day.
After Clint had a day off, he got busy again. He was able to come home for dinner, and Cristine was able to join him to eat. But aside from dinner, she wasn’t able to see him for the rest of the day.
She inhaled deeply and breathed out before exiting her room. Aunt Pang was busy organizing the groceries in the kitchen.
“Going somewhere? You’re quite nicely dressed. Very beautiful,” Aunt Pang complimented.
“Thanks, Aunt Pang. I’ll have an interview today,” she replied.
“Interview?” Aunt Pang stopped what she was doing and faced Cristine.
“Yes. I decided to apply for a job.”
“Oh. Really. That’s great. I’ll prepare your breakfast as fast as I can.” She turned her back and busily prepared a meal.
After eating breakfast, Cristine excitedly left home and took the bus to ABC Broadcasting Station. After the dinner with her friends, she suddenly wanted to continue reaching for her dreams. She busily looked for ads and found out that ABC Broadcasting Station was looking for new employees. She immediately sent her application letter and was scheduled for a practical test and an interview. She practiced really hard and relearned her past lessons. She did all this secretly. She didn’t tell anyone, as they might be worried about her and stop her from looking for a job. She herself thinks she was already well enough to work, but her mother and the others want her to take a rest and save the job hunting for later. She didn’t want to wait any longer.
She entered the station and followed the directions for the applicants. She found the waiting room and looked around. Many were busily practicing. She started to be nervous. Her opponents looked like they were all really good.
She sat in a corner and tried to calm herself down.
“Nervous?” A woman approached her.
She nodded. “How about you?”
The woman smiled. “Yeah. It’s my first time. I couldn’t be more nervous. But it’s a great thing they’re actually going to employ 20 applicants compared to DZ Station, who only employs five.” She looked at Cristine and asked, “How about you? Is it your first time?”
Cristine shook her head. “Not really. It’s my second time.”
“Oh, really? What happened with the first one? You weren’t shortlisted?”
Cristine nodded. “Yeah. I failed at the last phase.”
The woman frowned. “That’s so sad. You almost had it.”
“Yeah...” Cristine replied in a whisper.
“I hope we will both do great and enter ABC Station!” the woman cheered.
Cristine smiled at her.
There were two phases for the screening. The first phase was the practical test. Cristine nervously sat on her seat. She looked at the two people on her side. Two more people, and it’s her turn. As her turn was nearing, she got more nervous. The last person before her finally entered the testing room. She steadied her breathing and got ready. She fixed her hair with her fingers, fixed her nameplate, and made sure her clothes were not wrinkled.
“Ms. Stanford, please come in.”
She stood and confidently entered the room. A man was waiting for her and approached her to fix the mic on her. After checking her mic was working, she stepped on the platform. She looked at the screen that was showing herself and felt confident. She looked good. The prompter in front of her blinked.
“You’re going to report on a sudden terrorist bombing in a market. Are you ready?” the judge who was sitting at the middle of the panel said.
Cristine looked at them and nodded. There was a total of five judges. She needed to impress them all in order for her to enter the interview phase.
“Okay. Start!”
Cristine, with all her best, delivered the news in an eloquent manner. Not too fast, not too slow. Her delivery was perfect, and even her countenance amazed the judges.
Cristine went out of the testing room, looking confident. She didn’t make any mistake. She patted her own shoulder. “You did great,” she whispered to herself. She went to the waiting room again and waited for the result. She saw the woman who talked to her and sat near her.
“Hey. How was it?” Cristine asked.
The woman smiled. “It was good. I think I did great. How about you?”
“I also think I did well.”
“Nice! I hope we both get to the interview phase. Ah! I’m Anna,” the woman said as she flexed her nameplate.
Cristine did the same. “I’m Cristine.”
After waiting for two hours, the list of those who passed was posted. Cristine and Anna joined the others in checking their names. Cristine sternly looked for her name and felt relieved when she read it at the bottom. After seeing hers, she looked for Anna’s name, and sure enough, her name was also listed. They looked at each other and happily congratulated one another.
After the announcements, the applicants were given 2 hours for their lunch break. All of them were shown to the company’s cafeteria. Their meal was prepared by the company.
“Wow. They sure are rich. They even provided lunch for us,” Anna commented as they sat at a table.
“Yeah. I think they might be the first to do this,” Cristine replied.
They both started eating.
“Do you think the interview would be hard? I searched for it on the internet and couldn’t find anything,” Anna asked.
“Me, too. I found no clues at all regarding their questions. I guess they are extra careful to avoid the leakage of interview questions.”
“I guess so,” Anna agreed.
After the lunch break, the interview phase started. The applicants picked a number from a box for the order of the interview. Cristine was the 22nd person to be interviewed, and Anna was the 23rd. It was a team interview, so they both expected they were both in the same group.
After waiting for a few more hours, their turn was already up.
“Numbers 21-25, please enter,” the manager shouted.
Cristine stood and followed the applicant who got the number 21. The room had exactly 5 chairs for the applicants. The seats were arranged parallel to the five interviewers, the same people who scored the practical test.
“Number 21,” the interviewer in the middle started asking a question, “we all know that being a journalist and being a reporter is tedious work. How would you manage the stress of tight deadlines?”
Number 21 sat upright and confidently answered, “Before I decided to take this path, I already knew that this type of job is not easy at all. With the time management skills that I was able to hone while studying at my university, I believe I will be able to beat any tight deadlines. As long as I do my duties right away and not procrastinate, I am confident I will beat deadlines.”
“According to your resume, you studied at Hendery University. This school is known for its elite and skilled students. Are you confident you won’t taint your school’s reputation while working with us?” another interviewer questioned.
“I confidently say I won’t!” Number 21 replied.
Cristine was amazed. She thought Number 21 was so confident.
“Number 22,” the middle interviewer once again called, “Would you take on a story that could tarnish the reputation of another?”
Cristine, in a relaxed manner, answered, “As someone who finished this degree, I would say I will take it. It’s not about tarnishing the reputation of another that is important in this case. I believe that one of my duties is serving the public through unbiased reporting. What’s more important to me is the verified truth that I am reporting. So, once I verified the facts of the story that I am writing on, I would report it without bias. The people have the right to know the truth.”
The interviewers nodded.
“Ms. Stanford, you’re already 29? You graduated when you were 22. What happened to those years? I don’t see any experience listed here in your resume. Why are you only applying for a job now?”, the judge sitting at the far-right end of the table asked.
“It’s because of personal reasons, Sir.” Cristine smiled.
The middle interviewee scratched his chin and asked, “Hm. Aren’t you too old for this?”
Cristine was taken aback but didn’t show any fear. She smiled. “I believe serving the people doesn’t have anything to do with age.”
“Well, you’re right”, the youngest of them uttered. “But being a newbie journalist or reporter requires you to be in the field. Are you sure you will be able to cope with the young ones?”
Cristine, still wearing a smile, replied, “If given the opportunity, I will try my best.”
The interviewee at the far-left end of the table scoffed. Cristine maintained a poised manner. They continued to interview the rest of the applicants, and after they were all done, they stood to exit the room. But before Cristine could get out, the interviewee who scoffed at her called her.
“Ms. Standford, can you please stay for a moment?”
Cristine stopped and walked back in front of the interviewees. Once the other applicants were all out, he continued, “I’m afraid we have to disqualify you on your application.”
Cristine was confused. “May I know the reason?”
The youngest one answered, “Your score for the practical and interview is good, but we think you are too old for this.”
Cristine was speechless. “I am sorry, but I don’t think I read something about age restriction in your advertisement.”
“That one is our mistake. We forgot to include it. I hope you understand,” the one sitting at the middle added.
Cristine dejectedly exited the room. Anna was waiting for her at the door. “What did they say?” Anna asked, concerned.
Cristine forced a smile. “I guess I won’t be joining you in this station.”
Anna was startled. “Why? Is it still about your age?”
Cristine nodded.
“That’s unfair. They never said anything about age restrictions.”
“It’s alright. I hope you get in.” Cristine smiled. “I guess I have to go first.” She waved goodbye and exited the building.
It was already dark outside, and the cold breeze blew. She walked towards the bus station and sat, waiting for the bus. She stared blankly at the air. Buses came and left, but she sat still, not moving a muscle.
An hour passed before she woke up from her trance. Seeing that there was no bus, she decided to just walk. Holding her handbag, she slowly walked on the side road, mind blank.
She walked for an hour, not even noticing that the back of her feet were bleeding because of her heels. She stopped at a crossing and waited for the green light. As she stood still, she finally felt a throbbing pain in her feet. She looked down and saw her bleeding feet.
The traffic lights turned green, and people started to cross the street. She slowly removed her heels and carried them in her hand. She walked barefoot and was relieved that her feet were not aching anymore.
After crossing the pedestrian lane, she looked around and couldn’t gauge where she was. But she was not worried at all. She still continued to walk and just picked any direction she felt like walking to.
She walked until she saw a tent restaurant. Feeling tired, she sat on a table. An old lady went near her and asked, “What could I get you, young lady?” She noticed Cristine was barefoot. “Are you okay?”
Cristine looked around and asked, “What do you sell?”
“We sell alcohol and snacks,” the old lady replied, still worried about the girl. “Those shoes really hurt your foot. Do you need a band-aid?”
Cristine smiled, “No, thanks. Can I have a bottle?”
“Sure” the old lady replied. She guessed the girl was going through something and didn’t bother her. “How about snacks? We have chips, chicken wings, intestines—”
“I can have anything you recommend,” Cristine cut the old lady off.
“Okay.”
The lady went to get her order and came back quickly. She put down the alcohol on the table together with a plate of chicken wings.
Cristine smiled. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Enjoy!” the old lady said before leaving her alone.
There were not many people in the tent. Only three tables were occupied. She looked around before grabbing the bottle of alcohol and opening it. She smelled it first. The strong aroma of the liquor burned her nostrils. She coughed.
She actually doesn’t drink. This was her first time drinking. As the place she coincidentally found sold liquor, she got curious about it. And besides, many people drink when they have problems. Because she is feeling down today, she might just try it. She filled her glass and took a sip. She grimaced at the bitterness of the liquid and had a coughing fit.
“So bitter!” She put down the glass and picked up a chicken wing. She took a bite, hoping for the chicken taste to drown the bitterness of the alcohol.
After eating one chicken wing, she stared at the glass again. She muttered to herself, “Why do many people drink this? It’s so bitter and burns the tongue.”
She glared at the glass. After a few moments, she filled it full again. She inhaled a deep breath before downing all of its contents.
The liquid traveled into her esophagus, burning its way down to her stomach. She could feel the hotness of the liquid, and the bitter taste once again filled her mouth.
She groaned and coughed. She stuck out her tongue and fanned it with her hands. The people on the other tables who saw her actions laughed. She felt embarrassed.
Clint changed to his inside slippers and went inside the house. The lights were all turned off. He walked to the living room and turned on the lights. He stepped to the kitchen and saw the empty dinner table. In the past few days, whenever he came home, he would see Cristine waiting for him at the table. He guessed Cristine went to bed early this time.
He stepped out of the kitchen and walked towards the stairs, planning to take a shower, when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and answered it immediately.
“Cristine?”
“Hello. Is anyone there?” an old lady’s voice was heard at the other end.
Clint raised an eyebrow. “Who’s this?”
“Oh, oh. Someone answered… Hello. Do you know the owner of this phone?” asked the old lady.
“Yes.” Clint was confused. “Where is she?”
“You better come here right now. This lady passed out.”
“Passed out?” Clint repeated. He became worried as he thought she fainted again.
“Yes. She drank a whole bottle, and she is all passed out!” the old lady explained.
After getting the address, Clint hurriedly drove to the place. He stepped inside the tent, and the reeking smell of alcohol filled the place. Frowning, he looked for Cristine. He saw a girl who pasted her face on the table and guessed it was who he was looking for. He walked near her.
“Was it you on the phone?” an old lady approached and asked.
Clint nodded.
“Tsk. This girl came in barefoot. I was worried and asked her if she needed band-aids, but she just rejected them. She gobbled a whole bottle and passed out!” the old lady narrated.
Clint looked at the barefooted Cristine. He crouched down and checked her wounds. They were deep and were bleeding.
The old lady was also looking at them. “Tsk. How much did she walk with those shoes to have those? That might have been so painful.”
Clint stood up. “How much is her bill?”
“Oh, oh. Let me go get the receipt.” The old lady walked away and came back with a handwritten receipt.
Clint paid the bill. He slowly grabbed Cristine’s shoulder to help her sit up from the table. She whined and struggled from Clint’s hold.
“Be good. You’re drunk. Let’s go home,” ordered Clint.
Cristine, hearing his voice, opened her eyes. She furrowed her forehead and frowned.
“It’s you!” she said in a drunken voice. “It’s all your fault,” she uttered in almost a whisper. She removed Clint’s hands on her shoulders and gave him a slight slap on the chest. “It’s all your fault!” she repeated, but louder this time.
Clint, not knowing what he did wrong, still replied, “Okay. Let’s go home.”
“NO!” Cristine shouted. “I—I d-don’t want to go w-with y-you! I’ll just sleep here!”
She closed her eyes and almost banged her head on the table if it weren’t for Clint quickly holding her.
Irritated by the man’s action, she once again opened her eyes and slapped away his hands.
“Don’t touch me! I hate you!” Cristine angrily uttered.
Clint was stunned. Even with his hateful personality, no one dared to directly utter those words to him. He always knew many people hated him, and he didn’t care.
But hearing it now being directly said to him, he felt a sudden stab in his heart.
Was it always hurtful to hear someone say they hated you? Or did it only hurt because those three words were uttered by the girl in front of him?