Volume III - Pilot Chapter Pt. 3

A week later, after the funeral. I felt lonely and sad. That psycho bitch killed my ex that I just recently came back to. I feel so much hatred, and she still spams my messages, saying how much she loves me and how she watches me sleep.

I wasn't scared of her anymore, just spiralled down to depression. This all started because of that stupid book I wrote and got published on Kind Pink Novels. I started smoking more and taking more caffeine than usual.

I've always felt like being watched. I begged my superiors in Kind Pink Novels to cancel the contract even though it's already too late because of this one crazy obsessive fangirl that I have.

But they told me the contract had been signed for 10 years for me to keep writing for them like a bit of peasant. Even the senior editors kept pushing me around. Still, Alex, my personal editor, wasn't so bad, and she actually cared about my mental health.

She wanted to help me out in this situation. Still, she couldn't risk herself getting fired because her family needed support. Such as her mother's maintenance medicines and their essential needs, such as food and rent. All that. I felt terrible and just thanked her, anyway. And I begged my superiors one last time, and they showed empathy.

So they told me the only way to cancel the contract was to pay back everything they paid me for writing so I could quit and the money they used to promote my book. I felt hopeless. But regardless, when I was about to pull out my digital wallet, my personal editor, Alex, stopped me and encouraged me to stay.

As if she was desperate, and her energy felt something familiar. She wanted to talk to me in private about this. And so we did on our private direct messages.

She became charismatic and quickly convinced me to stay. I was instantly persuaded, and I decided to stay and became motivated to write more as if I was brainwashed but didn't notice it at first. This usually happens almost every day and even at the funeral.

I was told to write the next chapter even though I was mourning. Otherwise, my paycheck would be less. I didn't care and wanted to spend my last moments with her corpse in the casket until she was laid down under the soil of the underworld. Where her soul departed.

The thing is after I ignored them. My daily update bonus had stopped. Because I had to write 1500 words for one chapter a day, it will lessen my paycheck by the next month. So basically, I just lost 150 dollars just because I had to stop writing for a day.

And they lowered the rank of my bestselling book because of this down to the lowest one where they stopped promoting it.

It was total madness. I kept on coming back just because of Alex's compelling charisma on how she managed to encourage me to stay. But I had enough. And at the same time, I still wanted to keep up all at once.

But then, fortunes had come to me. Someone I messaged about a month ago replied to me. Her name was Rainy, and she's seen the resume I submitted to her the same day. I thought she would never answer back, but it turns out it was Chinese New Year.

She wanted to give me an interview for the job. And I gladly accepted. And I felt nervous the next day. I woke up in the morning to overindulge in cigarettes just to calm me down.

So, the time had come for me to waste all of my savings just to quit my job for my author career because they pay more here and perhaps it won't be as bad as the first job I had at Kind Pink Novels. But oh boy, was I wrong. It was even worse.

I was given the time of 7 pm for the interview after I made a Skype account to talk to the boss, and they scheduled it for me. Instead of acting extremely nervous about it. I acted highly professional, as if I've done this a million times. Because, in fact, I did.

But not in a professional sense. More like it's because I was a former sociopath that had got recovered almost entirely from it. This is why I take these medications to help me with my psychopathic tendencies.

Before I could quit my writing job at Kind Pink Novels. I asked them why I had to pay back all they had paid me for? They told me it's part of the contract I signed up for. And they sent me a picture that says so, with my signature on it. So, I paid back everything I owed them.

At 7 o'clock at night, I was in a Skype interview. My recruiter introduced me to my boss, and they seemed excited for me to work for them soon.

Then, the boss connected me to my interviewer, and he told him that I was ready any time of the day, as I mentioned. Since I have nothing better else to do at home.

They all seemed friendly and kept sending smiley emojis. I was surprised that they introduced me to my boss and gave the best impression. I am excited to work for him and highly motivated and enthusiastic. Then, at 6:40 pm.

I started to panic and started chain-smoking cigarettes. Until I felt queasy and wore my suit and fixed my camera, and changed the background to make myself look professional.

Then the first question started with, "Why do you work for the company?" then I went dead silent because of how anxious I felt.

I was panicking internally while calm on the outside. But when I spoke my first word, my charisma went smoothly, and I started talking more and more, giving my best impression. But when he began asking complicated questions, I began to get confused.

I cycled back to panicking and kept saying the wrong answers. The interviewer felt frustrated that there were points I didn't understand. But to back up my mistakes, I said.

"Despite I don't know much of such jobs since I've never been employed before, and I'm not an expert on these types of things. I am still highly motivated and enthusiastic enough to work for the company! I will do what it takes for me to get in the ranks, and I will do anything for the company just for the sake of my passion for writing."

Then he asked me about my writing skills as a profession on how I even managed to get this good since he looked up my file. I told him that no one taught me how to write.

It was a natural-born talent that I started writing ever since I was 11 years old, and it has become a passion and an obsession ever since. I never went to train for writing or whatsoever. I was just born to have a quirky talent for writing.

And he started chuckling, feeling as if he was making fun of me. But I think I was mistaken because he was just impressed by how I had such a talent since I was 11 years old. The fact that my resume says I've been a published author since 2017 up to today this 2022, and I had a few more years of experience in freelance work.

But I often talk about my writing examples of other professions and commissions and all about my creativity to impress him. Still, he told me that most of what I do in self-employed jobs is nothing related to the company.

Still, I backed it up by saying that what matters is that I will do anything, I will write anything, just about everything because I'm the jack of all trades in writing, not a jack but more like a king because I can write any genre and make it the best one anyone had read.

I can write professional, knowledgeable, general, creative, any type of literate work just for the company's sake. It's not just an obsessive hobby, but more like a dynamic profession.

Then came on more complicated questions to see how I could approach it correctly. But sadly, I failed and kept giving the wrong answers again, which made him slump back into his chair. Still, I backed it up with other professional words, and he started to lean on me, and he started nodding.

I felt ten times more dissociated every minute the interview went on. It took 50 minutes to finish the interview, and he thanked me for my time. I said, "You too." which was kind of bit off and awkward to say because I ran out of creative charismatic juices to keep ongoing. And he nodded and said bye waving friendly to me, and we both ended the call at the same time.

Then, my former personal editor messaged me, saying, "How was your job interview?"

Wait… how did she know I was in an interview?

"How did you know I was recently in an interview?" I asked.

"Oh! You told me you were going to an interview soon, right?" she messaged me, having a familiar sense of dread because it felt suspicious. Then I messaged her back.

"Yeah, I know. But it was just finished just a second ago. Literally. How did you know?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in an interview as of now. Must be a coincidence, right? Heh…"

Damn, this is suspicious. But I ignored it anyway because it's appropriately just a coincidence.

Then she messaged me again, "I hope you're doing good. Remember, despite I'm not your personal editor anymore. I am still your friend. We've always been. You remember when we acted as friends or more rather than just professional colleagues? Exactly! Good night. I hope you sleep well and have a good dream."

I still feel a sense of dread. It's too familiar. But where was it from? Never mind, I should go to bed.

I turned off my computer, took off my suit, wore my usual clothes, and headed back to sleep. Then suddenly, there's a new message on my phone. It was that psycho bitch. And yes, I saved her number and named her "PSYCH0 B1TCH".

Because why not?

"Good job on your job interview! I saw everything. I'm so proud of you."

Ah, Jesus…

I just slept on it. My interviewer told me he would notify me in a few days.