CHAPTER 22: Stepping into the Unknown
Victoria’s POV
now, that I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing my skirt for what felt like the hundredth time. The fabric wasn’t luxurious, but it was neat, and for would have to be enough. My white blouse, pressed to perfection, was modest but professional. The pencil skirt hugged my frame just right, but I still felt out of place, as though my reflection wasn’t truly me.
For years, I’d been wrapped in silks and satins, accessorized with diamonds that glittered under the slightest light. Now, I was wearing the best I could afford a stark reminder of how far I had fallen.
I straightened my shoulders, trying to shake off the thought. Today wasn’t about the past. Today was about proving to myself–and to the world–that could stand on my own two feet.
“Why am I so nervous?” I thought, clutching the portfolio I’d spent weeks perfecting. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have the talent; my sketches were good- excellent, even. But as I imagined sitting in front of the interview panel, surrounded by polished professionals who’d probably been in this industry for years, I couldn’t help the doubt that crept in.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to look at my reflection. “You got this, Victoria,” I said softly. “We’re gonna get this.”
The ride to Blackwood’s Atelier felt agonizingly long. The city passed in a blur outside the cab window, but.my focus was inward. My mind replayed every possible question the panel could ask, every potential flaw they might notice. I hated feeling this vulnerable, but I couldn’t let it stop me.
When the cab pulled up in front of the towering glass building, I hesitated. The structure gleamed in the sunlight, a symbol of success and prestige. My palms felt clammy as I paid the driver and stepped onto the sidewalk.
You got this, Victoria! Come on girl!
I had to motivate myself, I had to cheer myself on because I was very well aware that no one would do that for me.
Inside, the reception area buzzed with energy. Men and women moved with purpose, their polished appearances making me feel even more self- conscious. My shoes clicked against the marble floor as I approached the receptionist, clutching my portfolio tightly to my chest.
“Victoria Hawthorne, I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I have an interview scheduled for 10 a.m.”
The receptionist smiled politely and gestured to the seating area. “Please have a seat. Someone will call you shortly.”
I nodded and turned, my heart sinking as I surveyed the other candidates. They were impeccably dressed, exuding confidence as they chatted quietly or scrolled through their phones. I caught sight of a woman’s designer blazer and another man’s gleaming gold watch.
They screamed professionalism, and then there was….me. I’m not sure I had any aura at all. I looked plain, completely out of place; I looked like I belong somewhere less prestigious.
I couldn’t help comparing myself to them. My blouse, no matter how carefully ironed, couldn’t compete. My shoes, slightly scuffed, felt like they screamed my fall from grace.
Sitting down, I tried to calm the storm of doubt brewing inside me. You’ve worked for this. You’re talented. They’ll see that.
But another voice whispered back, What if you’re not enough?
When my name was called, I stood quickly, clutching my portfolio so tightly my knuckles turned white. I followed the receptionist down a sleek hallway, my heartbeat thundering in my ears louder than the sound of my clicking heels.
“Good luck.” She said when we got to the entrance of the office.
The interview room was spacious, its floor–to–ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city. Three people sat behind a polished table, their expressions professional but unreadable.
Victoria Hawthorne, the man said, glancing at a sheet of paper in front of him. “Please, have a seat.”
I sat down, carefully placing my portfolio on the table in front of me. “Thank you.”
The first few questions were standard, and I answered them as confidently as I could..
“What inspired your passion for jewelry design?*
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ཤ 22ཛད་ར
CHAPTER 22: Stepping into the Unknown
I smiled, my nerves momentarily forgotten as I spoke. “Jewelry has always been more than just adornment to me. It’s a form of art, a way to tell a story.” I replied. “Growing up, I’d spend hours sketching designs, imagining the lives of the people who’d wear them.”
As the interview progressed, I began to relax. They flipped through my portfolio, and I watched their expressions carefully.
Why do you want to work with us?
How much are you expecting as a salary?
How many outstanding designs can you produce within a given time?
“These are impressive,” one of the women said, holding up a sketch of a statement necklace. “You have a strong sense of symmetry and an eye for detail. Have you had any formal training?”
“Not officially,” I admitted, “but I’ve dedicated months to studying gemstones, metals, and design principles. I’ve also been refining my skills through independent projects.”
The man nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Tell us about a challenge you’ve faced in your work and how you overcame it.”
My mind raced, but I forced myself to stay calm. I was only just starting, there were no challenges to speak of, but I pulled myself together as I thought hard and deep.
“One challenge I faced was mainly judgement; what people thought of my work affected me a lot.” I replied, my voice quiet, I tried my best to keep the pain and bitterness out. “I overcame it by reminding myself that my opinion mattered too, that it mattered the most, actually.”
They seemed impressed by my answer, and they went on to ask question after questions. When that phase of the interview finally ended, I stood, thanking them for their time.
As I walked back to the reception, I replayed the experience in my mind. Had I done enough? Had they seen my potential? My body trembled from anxiety as I settled down to wait for the final phase of the interview.
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