²⁷ 𖹭 "ᵇᵉʳʳʸʸʸ!"

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「 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ 𖹭 ⁷,³⁰⁵ 」

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╔══ ⋅˚₊ ‧ ˖ ݁ 𖥔.꒰ঌᰔ໒꒱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ══╗

❝ 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒄𝒕
𝑶𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝑰'𝒎 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆
𝑮𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅
𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 ❞

╚═══ ⋅˚₊ ‧ ˖ ݁ .꒰ঌᰔ໒꒱. ݁ ˖ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ═══╝
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⋅ POV⋅
⋅⊰ MEI⊱⋅

My heart was racing. Anxiety was something I'd always struggled with in many different ways, but this was a much heavier weight in my chest now. It was the kind of swirling discomfort that settled in your stomach the moment your name was called to head to the front of the class and give your presentation; another memory that struck me upon this sensation I currently felt was that of telling someone I had feelings for them. It was that kind of anxious; the kind where there is a fifty-fifty chance of something ending badly, but for some reason you focus on the potentially bad ending.

Taking a deep breath into my lungs, I held it for a moment as I pushed through the revolving doors, releasing the air as the smell of polished marble, freshly printed paper, and stainless steel greeted my senses. It felt as though I were entering the headquarters of Stark Industries, and I half-expected a tall, handsome white man in a pressed suit with an American accent to step into view and question my unfitting presence.

Rather, I was addressed by a voice from the secretary's desk, and I turned my head to lock eyes with a young man around my age. He was obviously and classically handsome, though I felt no attraction towards him as I immediately sensed a bad aura radiating off of him.

"Miss, can I help you?" Is what he had captured my attention with.

Smiling politely despite my unease, I nodded my head a little as I approached his desk. "Yes, please, um, I'm looking for Hayashi Yūrei," I awkwardly relayed my father's name to the young man.

The man paused, giving me a somewhat doubtful glance-over that was so brief that anyone could have overlooked it. I am not anyone. The expression felt personal in how it took mere seconds to analyze my appearance and judge. Granted my outfit wasn't very classy or sophisticated– I had yet to change out of my work uniform– but I didn't expect my father to be working in such an elite building. I certainly would have fixed up my hair and makeup and changed into something less likely to magnetically draw negative charges to my bland yet positive tug.

"Do you have an appointment?" The secretary questioned in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

My heart fell slightly with panic as I tried to explain, "Well, no, but–"

"You will need to make an appointment to speak with such a superior–"

"Hayashi Mei?"

The sound of the vaguely familiar voice addressing me from somewhere behind caused me to pause and turn my head along with the secretary. A tall woman made even taller by a pair of polished black stiletto heels was approaching me, the clicks of each step she took leaving me unsettled despite her friendly expression. Her silky black hair framed her pale face in a delicate yet contrasting manner, and her makeup was bold and fierce as if she needed to exude 'baddie' vibes to be taken seriously in such a building.

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