The mirror didn't lie, but Avery wished it would.
Her reflection looked like someone halfway between trying and giving up tired eyes, pale lips, and the kind of smile that never quite reached her face. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stared for a moment longer, wondering if this was what "hope" was supposed to look like.
Her outfit wasn't perfect just a plain white blouse and a pair of black trousers that fit a little too tightly around the waist — but it was all she had that said I'm trying. She'd ironed it twice the night before, afraid of wrinkles, afraid of giving anyone another reason to look at her like she didn't belong.
As she stepped outside, the air smelled faintly of rain. The morning sky hung low, swollen with gray clouds. She could feel the weight of it pressing down, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
The bus ride was long and quiet. Avery kept her resume clutched against her chest, tracing the folded corners with her thumb. She rehearsed her introduction under her breath, trying to sound confident Good morning, my name is Avery, and I'm here for the interview.
But every time she said it, her voice trembled like it didn't believe her.
When the bus stopped near the office, she stepped out into a part of the city that looked nothing like her world. Everything gleamed tall glass buildings, polished cars, people who walked like they knew exactly where they were going. Avery swallowed hard. She felt small, invisible, like a misplaced word in a perfect sentence.
The company's lobby was colder than she expected. The walls were white, the floors spotless. Even the air felt filtered too clean, too still.
The receptionist gave her a professional smile that didn't quite touch her eyes.
"Name?"
"Avery Reed," she answered softly.
The woman nodded and gestured toward the waiting area.
Minutes turned into half an hour. Avery sat still, trying not to fidget, but her palms were damp. Her heart raced every time the door opened, but each time, someone else's name was called instead of hers.
By the time Mrs. Collins appeared, Avery's nerves had unraveled into silence.
"Miss Reed?"
"Yes yes, that's me," she stammered, standing up so quickly her resume nearly slipped from her hands.
The office smelled faintly of coffee and expensive perfume. Mrs. Collins, a woman in her fifties with sharp eyes and a tone that could slice through silence, gestured for her to sit.
"So, tell me about yourself, Avery."
That should've been easy. She'd practiced it a dozen times.
But her mind went blank.
Her throat felt dry, words tangled somewhere between fear and air.
"I—uh—I recently finished a course in…" She hesitated, fumbling through her folder. "I mean, I studied communications, but I haven't had much I mean, I'm trying to"
Her voice trailed off.
Mrs. Collins offered a tight smile not cruel, just tired. "It's alright, dear. Take a breath."
Avery tried, but her chest refused to cooperate. Every mistake, every insecurity, every voice that ever told her she wouldn't make it they all came flooding back at once.
When the interview ended, Mrs. Collins' words were polite but heavy:
"Thank you, Avery. We'll be in touch."
No reassurance. No spark of hope. Just that quiet, familiar goodbye.
Outside, the world felt too bright. The clouds had cleared, but the air was heavy with the smell of wet asphalt. Avery found a small bench near a coffee shop and sat down. She folded her resume in half, then again, until it looked like something broken and crumpled.
Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. People walked past her, laughing, holding hands, carrying coffee cups living lives that looked easier than hers.
"Maybe I'm just not enough," she whispered under her breath. The words came out cracked, barely audible.
She thought about calling Lena, but she couldn't bear to say it out loud. Couldn't bear to admit she'd failed again. So she just sat there, shoulders trembling, pretending to check her phone as if she was waiting for someone.
Then, faintly, she remembered Harrison's voice from a few days ago
"Even broken things can shine, Avery. You just have to stop standing in the dark."
A soft, shaky breath left her lips. His words felt like a small flame inside her dim, but enough to keep her from falling apart completely.
As the city moved around her, she slowly stood, wiped her eyes, and started walking. She didn't know where she was going maybe toward the bus stop, maybe nowhere at all. But the sound of her footsteps felt steady again, like she was reminding herself she still existed.
A familiar voice called from behind.
"Avery?"
She froze. Her heart skipped. She knew that voice.
When she turned, Harrison was standing a few feet away a coffee in one hand, a faint, surprised smile on his lips.
And for the first time that day, she almost smiled back.