interview which was mess
She flipped through another resume, her fingers tapping a sharp rhythm against the glass desk.
Selena hart
“Is this really the best we can find?”
Aya rivers
“The photography department’s been struggling. Since Anton left, we’ve had a creative vacuum. You asked for someone fresh. Bold. A different kind of eye.”
Selena hart
“Fresh doesn’t mean chaotic.”
She stood, crossing the room to the full-length window that overlooked the city. From this high up, everything looked orderly. Tiny.
Aya rivers
"Julian Blackwood,” Aya announced, her voice uncertain.
And everything about him was wrong.
He was ten minutes late.
His shirt wasn’t tucked in.
Camera bag slung over one shoulder, hair slightly wind-tossed, and—was that a coffee stain near the hem of his blazer?
He smiled like he owned the room.
julian
“Apologies. The elevator decided to play a slow jazz number on the way up. I figured I'd respect the tempo.”
Selena hart
“You’re late.”
He quipped, dropping into the chair opposite her desk without waiting to be told.
Selena hart
“You applied for our staff photographer position.”
Selena hart
“No portfolio link on your resume.”
julian
“Didn’t think pixels would do it justice. I brought the real deal.”
He slid a thin folder across the table. Inside—prints. Black and white. Unfiltered emotion. A crying child with a balloon. A man proposing with a trembling hand. A woman laughing mid-spin, hair blurring into the sun.
Raw. Unstaged. Honest.
Too honest.
Selena hart
“These aren’t editorial,They’re documentary. We’re not looking for art-house grit. We need controlled imagery. Precision.”
julian
“Control’s great. Until it strangles the story.”
julian
He smiled. “You run this place like a queen. I respect that. But maybe your magazine needs someone who knows how to find the cracks. The flaws. The truth beneath the gloss.”
Selena hart
“This isn’t a philosophy debate, Mr. Blackwood.”
Selena hart
“You seem... undisciplined."
She folded her arms. “Unprofessional.”
julian
“What’s really unprofessional? Hiring another yes-man with a Nikon and zero soul, or taking a chance on someone who actually sees what’s happening under the surface?”
That stopped her. Just for a second.
There was something in his work. Not polish. Not order. But truth. Movement. Humanity.
Exactly the kind of chaos she despised.
Exactly the kind of chaos her publication might need.
Selena hart
“We’ll be in touch.”
julian
“That’s the nice version of no, right?”
julian
Julian stood, shouldering his bag. “Well. In case you do call me back, you should know—I’m allergic to suits. And small talk.”
As he reached the door, he paused.
julian
“I liked your office, by the way. Very... prison-chic.”
He gave her a wink and walked out.
Aya rivers
“Should I schedule the next interview?”
Selena was staring at one of Julian’s photographs still left on her desk
that one picture ~ pic of a old man purchasing pistachio flavor ice-cream with a smile
Dante hart Selena's grandfather the person who was light of hope in her life
the person who take Selena out of the dark past
Selena's like pistachio ice-cream but she have eaten that ice-cream from last 3 year
Selena hart
“Cancel them all.”
Comments
Lauraaa♑️
The suspense is killing me! Please update soon.
2025-04-11
1