Chapter 3 Third Chapter

I will love you until the stars go out, and the tides no longer turn...

"Remind me why I allowed you to go to that interview again?". The older man asked.

He wasn't that old. His black hair had a few strikes of grey here and there as well as his beard. He was in his mid fifties but fit. He was a little taller than the girl looking at him with fondness in her eyes.

"Because this is a great opportunity for me plus it has always been my dream". The girl replied.

"Riska..." The man trailed off as the girl, Riska came forwards and embraced him.

"Come on Father. I'm not a little girl anymore. I can take care if myself so you have nothing to worry about". Riska said, trying to reassure her Father.

It was just her and her Father now. They only had each other and she understood the efforts her Father had put just to keep her safe.

He was a little overprotective at times but she didn't mind. She was overprotective over him as well if that explained why his Father hadn't remarried again after twenty good years.

"I know. I know Riska but still you should call me after the interview to tell me how it all went, also you should come back home straight after. I don't want you running around at night". Her Father, Mr Rubis said.

Riska gave out an audible sigh as she pulled back from the embrace and looked at her Father who looked back at her. His brows ceased up slightly with worry.

"Father. Come on". Riska tried to protest but her Father raised his hand to shush her. He wasn't having any of it.

"Good luck Riska. I'm sure you're going to pass this interview". He said, causing her lips to crack up in a smile.

"I'm pretty sure I'll pass the interview and get the job".

"You better get going before it gets late". Mr Rubis said as he kissed her forehead, careful not to mess with his daughter's make up.

"Thank you Father. See you later". Riska replied as she took her handbag and left the house.

Mr Rubis smiled to himself, silently praying that his daughter gets the job.

Riska's dream was to become a model for the best fashion house in the country and when the advert came in the papers that LA Mujer Fashion and Magazine house was in need of models for their new channel and products, she hadn't thought twice, she had applied for the job and now she was going for the interview.

Mr Rubis was aware that there would be a lot of girls there, all beautiful, more fashionable and classy than his daughter but he had a feeling that she would get the job.

They weren't that well off. So he wasn't capable of affording to buy designer clothes for her daughter but she understood.

She never complained and was always content with whatever he gave her.

Getting a job hadn't been easy. He was a manager of a local hotel which didn't pay him much. Riska always insisted in helping him with the bills around the house but he didn't want to.

So Riska never worked and that made her uncomfortable. That's why she jumped at this chance like a predator pouncing on it's prey without looking back and with no hesitation.

Mr Rubis wasn't sure of what he was afraid of. He actually didn't want his daughter to face the world. He knew the world was hostile and he didn't want Riska facing such hostility in her life.

At times he forgot she was now a young lady, a grown woman.

She was just twenty five years old and yet he had deprived her off her rights of facing the world.

At times, he thought of himself as a bad father but was he bad for looking out for his daughter?. He just didn't want her hurt in any way.

Perhaps this was the right time to let her fly by her own wings. A part of him wanted to let her have her own way while the other part was afraid of the outcome.

Riska worked online. Writing for several freelance companies so that she'd at least have some money for herself and to help her Father maintain the house. He didn't want her out working and that had been the only way she could earn money while at home.

The bus stopped where she and other passengers stood at the bus station. She quickly boarded and found an empty seat which was next to an older dark skinned woman. She looked to be in her mid thirties or forties, Riska wasn't sure.

She sat as the woman looked at her, giving out a small smile, she returned the smile before looking away.

Taking in deep breathes and trying to reassure herself internally that she would do it and get the job.

"Trying out for a new job?". The woman next to her asked.

Riska turned and looked at her.

The woman gave a slight chuckle, "You're nervous and by the way you're dressed, says it all, you're going to try for a new job". The woman explained.

"Oh. I didn't know I was that open to read". Riska replied more to herself than to the older woman seated beside her.

"I'm sure whatever job it is, you'll get it so you have nothing to worry about. By the way, I'm Mrs Abel".

"I'm Riska. Pleased to meet you". Riska answered as she stuck out her hand for a handshake which the older woman, Mrs Abel took in hers and shook briefly.

"Riska?". Mrs Abel asked. Riska nodded her head.

"Pleased to meet you too. You have such a unique name if I might add". Mrs Abel said.

Riska smiled wider, "Thank you".

The bus stopped causing her to look around. It was her que.

"I'm getting off here. It was nice meeting you Mrs Abel". Riska said as she shook hands again with the older woman.

"The pleasure has been shared". Replied Mrs Abel.

Riska nodded in accordance and stood up from her seat to leave.

"Riska!". Mrs Abel called after her causing her to turn and look at her. "Good luck".

Riska smiled and nodded in accordance before alighting the vehicle and watching it drive away.

She turned to face the skyscraper in front of her. This was LA Mujer Fashion house where her dreams were finally going to come true.

Riska was confident in herself and she wanted to do this not just for herself but for her Father as well.

Another smile crept on her lips as she imagined herself cat walking down with a beautiful and classy new designer clothes manufactured by the company's best designer, cameras clicking and taking pictures of her and people looking at her with awe, applauding at her graceful features.

'That would be so great'. She thought to herself as she walked towards the entrance of the building.

The glass doors were opened by the security man who stood there.

"Good morning". She greeted him and he nodded in accordance as she walked to where the reception was.

"Um, hello". Riska started, making the lady behind the reception desk look up at her.

She was yellow skinned, looked like her age mate, had short but not too short dark brown hair which was nicely and neatly combed back. She was dressed in a purple skirt suit which looked expensive. Actually she looked like a model.

"How may I help you?". She asked.

"I'm here for the modelling interview?". Riska said. She didn't mean it to cone out as a question.

The lady's perfectly arched shaped brow rose as her eyes raked over Riska, "Ohh. Here is the number tag. You'll go to the fouty ninth floor where the auditions are taking place".

Riska took the number tag from the lady in front of her muttering a small thank you and heading towards the elevator to go to where she had been told to go to.

The number tag held number three hundred and forty five. She had no idea that there would be a lot of people auditioning for the same job as she was.

Well, she knew that there would be other people but not as many as three hundred plus people!.

The elevator came and she went in as the doors closed, she tapped on the number of the floor she was going to before the elevator started to move again.

The elevator chimed as it came to a stop and opened it's doors for her to get out. She had reached the forty ninth floor and right now, all the confidence and courage she previously had, was all gone.

She suddenly felt like a little girl in a huge empty room. Her heart pounded fast and hard against her chest. She felt vulnerable and scared.

Looking around, there was no one in sight but she could hear a few people talking. It wasn't too late, she could turn, walk away and forget about ever being a model or she could walk ahead, embrace her fears and become the model she wanted to be.

Riska thought about her Father. He had hope and confidence in her. She couldn't let him down.

This was indeed going to be a long day for her.