I dreamed of working in fashion, but on my first day, I faced whispers, judgment, and a boss who saw my size, not my talent. They didn’t believe I belonged—but I had a plan. When the runway lights came on, I knew it was my chance to prove them all wrong.
I was walking to my new job, clutching my bag tightly and trying to steady my breathing. My palms were damp, and my heart raced.
It was my first day, and though I always found reasons to worry, this time it felt justified. What if they didn’t like me? What if I messed up?
When I entered the sleek glass building, my nerves only grew. I fumbled with my ID, scanning it twice before the elevator chimed.
Watching the numbers tick upward, I tried to calm myself. “You’ve got this,” I whispered under my breath. The elevator stopped with a soft ding, and I exhaled as the doors slid open.
At the reception desk sat a stunning young woman, exuding confidence with her flawless hair and makeup, as if she were ready for a magazine shoot.
“Hi, I’m—” I began, stepping up to the reception desk.
The woman glanced at me briefly and interrupted. “Oh, you’re the new cleaning lady. Let me show you around,” she said, standing up and grabbing a clipboard.
I blinked, startled. “No, actually—”
“Come on,” she said briskly, walking ahead before I could finish. “You’ll need to know where the cleaning supplies are. Bathrooms are down the hall. You’ll want to check them every couple of hours.”
I followed her in confusion, trying to speak again. “I’m not—”
“You’ll also be responsible for trash,” she continued, not turning back. “Take it out at the end of each day. Sometimes mid-shift if it gets bad. Oh, and keep the break room tidy. People here are messy.”