Chapter 3

 The sun rays peak through my curtains as the smell of bacon fills my room. I can hear faint Puerto Rican music getting louder as I begin to wake up. I checked my clock to see that it was only 6:30 in the morning.

"Mi madre es loca, muy loca," I whisper to myself. "Mom! It's way too early to be playing music this loud!"

"¿Que? I can't hear you mijah." She shouts from downstairs.

"Well, turn the music down, and you'll hear me!"

"No can do. It's a fiesta in this house today!"

"Mom, it's my day off. Could you at least turn it down so I can sleep in a little!"

"OK, I'll turn it down just a little!"

I have no idea what started this. She usually blasts music this early in the morning if she heard good news, excited about something, or if it's cleaning day. It's not a Saturday, so I know it's not cleaning day, so it's one of the other two. I just need a few more hours of shut eye, and I'll be ready for the day. As soon as I'm getting ready to drift off into a deep sleep, my mother came bursting through the door, causing me to jolt out of my sleep.

"For the love of, mom, what the heck!"

"I'm sorry, mijah, I just couldn't hold it any longer." She says, handing me an enclosed envelope. "Look what it says."

On the front of the envelope is a logo I'm very much familiar with. It's a logo that anyone in the world would be familiar with. My heart starts to race, and I can feel my arm pits getting sweaty. My chest begins to tighten up, and all of a sudden, it's really hard to breathe. There in my hand, in a burgundy and gold embedded envelope, was the Salomé logo with the headquarters address, sent to my apartment, with my name on it.

"Mom. Mom, what is this?" I asked with a shakey voice.

"It arrived this morning. I heard you mention this company so many times when you were going to school."

"But the mail doesn't even go out that early, how?"

"They must have expedited it. Well, go on, open it." She says excitingly.

My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I'm beginning to feel light-headed. What is this. Is this some kind of prank? Am I dreaming, did I die in my sleep last night? Why am I getting a letter directly from Salomé headquarters. Why is it addressed to me? Why was it sent to this address? Did they make a mistake, is there someone else who lived here before with the same name? That must be it because, why?

"I don't know if I can open this mom."

"What, why?"

"I don't know, I'm scared. Why did they send this here?"

"Well, we can't know unless you open it."

My hands are shaking and sweaty. I feel like I want to throw up. My tummy is bubbling, and I might have to go sit on the toilet. I don't know what to do. I'm so nervous I can't even think straight. Ok, before I get way ahead of myself, like I said, this might have been some misunderstanding, so I have nothing to worry about, right?

With a deep breath in and out, I swallow my fears and build up the courage to open the letter. As I begin to read on, I froze in my track.

"Well, what does it say mijah. The suspense is killing me." Mom asked anxiously.

In disbelief, I was lost of words. Nothing could come out of my mouth as I tried to process what I just read. My mother snatched the letter from my hands after getting impatient and began to read.

"Good morning, Miss Melia Rodriguez. We would like to invite you to the Salomé headquarters to discuss an available posi-" My mom drops to hear knees in tears. "Oh thank you God. Thank you, thank you." She starts to bawl with tears of pure joy.

Through it all, I'm still trying to process what I just read. I still don't understand why, I don't even believe it's true. I still believe they must be mistaken and had sent this to the wrong address. That must be it. How do they know my name, how did they get my address, and why was I acknowledged in the first place?

My mom reads the rest of the letter. "You were selected after being recommended by one of our trusted consultants and would like to meet with you on March 27th, 2025, at 1:00 pm."

My mom starts to dance around my room, singing and clapping while I'm still in a daze. I can feel the room getting hot. My breathing becomes more rapid and my hearts beating even faster than before. My stomach aches and I feel very nauseous. I start to feel as if I'm sinking and the walls begun to close in. Everything is unnoticeable and foggy. I can hear my mom's chants echo in my head with towering voices of despair.

"Ofcourse they sent it to the wrong address. There's no way they could want you."

"Don't get your hopes up, you know something like this could never happen to you."

"A prestigious company wants to give you a position, ha, don't make me laugh."

At this point my head is definitely spinning and I feel as if I'm going to faint. I look at my mom who now has a worried look on her face after turning her attention to me. Before everything went black, the last thing I heard was my name.

Again, there I was, in this dark void. Alone, scared and discouraged. There's no way that letter was for me, I'm nothing, I can't work there. I find myself curling up into a ball as a float away into the void.

"Melia."

What was that?

"Melia you need to wake up." A faint voice said in the distance.

"Whos there?"

"Melia."

"How do you know my name?"

"Melia!" My mom shouted shaking me back to consciousness.

"Wait, what? What happened?"

"You fainted." Mom looks at me worriedly.

I can feel my head pounding as I try to sit up in the bed. "Oh my gosh mom, I had the craziest dream. I dreamed that Salomé sent me a letter about some position at their headquarters." I laugh nervously.

"That wasn't a dream mijah." Mom says while holding the letter in her hand.

"So, so it was real?"

"Yes, it was."

"I wasn't just dreaming about it?"

"No, the letter is right here. In real life."

Ok, it happened. It's happening right now, right here. It's real. It's really real. The letter is real and what it's saying is real. They really requested me, personally. Wait didn't mom say I was recommended.

"Wait, did it say I was recommended?"

"Yes it did." Mom smiles proudly.

"By whom?"

"Hmmmm, a Mr. Clause."

Mr. Clause, like my college professor Mr. Clause. But why, how, what? Mr. Clause always favored me out of all his students in college. He would say I have a good eye for true design. He'd always encourage me to keep working hard and that he believes that some day I would make it big. But wait, didn't it say trusted consultant. Mr. Clause is a trusted consultants for Salomé!

Ok, everything is happening way too fast here. I just need to breath and calm my self down. Is Mr. Clause out of his mind! I can't work at Salomé. I'm not qualified for this. I work at a supermarket. I haven't picked up a pencil to design anything in 3 years. I can't do this.

"I can't do this mom."

"Yes you can. This is the greatness in you that I was talking about."

"Mom I have nothing to show, I haven't designed anything in 3 years."

"Well, you get a whole week to come up with something." She smiles while leaving my room.

This is completely insane. I haven't the least idea of what to present. I have no inspiration. What am I going to do. What if I don't come up with something with in a week? What if I have completely nothing to present? I'm going to be an embarrassment and not just to myself but to Mr. Clause who recommended me. This year just keeps getting worse and worse by the second. How the hell am I going to come up with Salomé worthy designs in a week. Oh fashion ancestors of the past, grant me your wisdom because I desperately need it.