Melody's POV
The next morning the sun hadn't even risen yet but I was already awake.
Not because I wanted to be. Because I had to be.
Another night of scrolling through endless job listings, half of them requiring experience I didn't have or offering wages that buy toothpaste. My neck was stiff my phone battery, my phone was nearly dead and my spirit? Hanging on by a thread.
I sat at the edge of my bed, my laptop open beside me, tabs with filled with "Now Hiring", Part Time Student Jobs" and "Flexible Work Hours." Nothing feel right. Or safe. Or doable.
Frustrated, I close the laptop with a soft thud and rubbed my temples.
"This can't be my life…"
Later that morning, I decided to try the old-fashioned way in person.
I slipped into hoodie, tied my sneakers, and hit the old road. Cafe bookstores. Grocery shops. Even the copy shop across campus.
Every door gave me the same response:
"We are not hiring at the moment"
Or worse:
"We'll call if something opens up" (If they say that just know it is an irony)
By noon I was tired, sweaty and close to giving up.
Until the jog.
It had become my little routine. A jog around the block to clear my mind, burn off frustration, and convince myself I still had control over something. Today was no different. I jogged past familiar the same sidekicks I'd memorized.
Until something unfamiliar stopped me.
A door.
One I swear hadn't been there yesterday.
It was sleek, black, with gold letters that simply read:
S.H Group.
No flashing groups. No "Help Wanted" sticker. Just a strange sense of... gravity. I slowed down heart racing for a new reason