Chapter 2 What's wrong with my hair

I woke up early, ready for my first job interview. I don't know how these things work and I really don't want to care but I have to get a decent job if I wanted to earn clean cash.

To be honest, while in college, I joined an underground fighting club. My drunk dad wasn't ready to work and help me out financially so, I found myself an aide.

Thanks to my everyday struggle with my dad, I had some experience and found myself fighting people for money. Of course I got beaten up pretty badly at the beginning but I was sure to beat the crap out of them before the match was over.

I didn't fight for fame or popularity so I didn't fight often. I only fought when I needed the bucks urgently and with that thought in mind, I was sure to win.

Now I'm currently done with school. Though I wasn't a killer at studies, I still made it out okay. I wasn't sure how long my streak at the underground arena would last so, I decided to quit. I put all the illegal stuff behind me and decided to find a 'legal' job.

My parents had a really cruel divorce while I was till very young. I call it cruel because I was left alone. Although I stayed with my dad, he wasn't any much help as he resulted to drinking and eventually, gambling. Life was really tough for me but even at that, I always stuck onto my mom's st words to me.

She said, loving is hard. It doesn't always work the way we plan it. Once was fall, we just have to bear with the pain and stick till the end or, never fall at all. Thanks to those words, I've been single for all my 23 years of living. I did like my childhood friend but I couldn't tell him for fear of getting rejected and hurt.

I got on my scooter, which I bought with the money I won from my last few fights. I made a bet with the last guy I fought and I won, so hundred thousand dollars free for me and nothing for him.

I couldn't think of anything else but to get myself a transport system. A car came to mind but I didn't have my driver's license and felt too lazy to get it. I'll get it later in life.

I arrived at the company I was supposed to get my interview. It was a finance company and one of the biggest in the world with several branches.

Usually, I would've preferred to be a reporter and dig out the dirty secrets that people hide, I was so good at it. Plus, being a reporter didn't need having a degree, in that sense I could've ditched school and get straight to business but apparently, you'd have to give every single detailed information about yourself first. Tch, why'd I wanna do that?

I stood at the front of the company dressed decently and formally. There was a band over my short curly orange hair. I never let I grow past my shoulder because I liked the style short. That way, it wouldn't hinder me in anything.

I clutched onto my resumè and went in. There were tons of people being interviewed so I had to wait. Of course, who wouldn't want to work in such a huge and prosperous company.

I glanced around and discovered most of the people being interviewed were girls, pretty girls but honestly, they looked more like shitty escorts wearing skin tight dresses and heavy makeup.

None of them looked serious about the job but we're only worried about how they looked. Most sneered at me while others scoffed and grinned confidently. I was so pissed off. Did they see me as a competitor or a rival? I wanted to wipe off those looks with my fist but no, they're girls. They wouldn't be able to take it.

After waiting for what felt like a century, it was finally my turn. I thought I'd get turned down instantly because every other girl who walked in didn't take more than two seconds before running out in tears. This is why I don't wear make up. Well, that and the fact that it irks me.

I walked in and sat down. There were three people conducting the interview. Jeez, why did it have to be three?

The guy sitting in between two ladies, looked at me like he was satisfied. He placed his two elbows on the desk, interlocked his fingers and rested his chin on them. His brown eyes seemed to have wandered deep into my soul. What was he thinking? Then suddenly, he spoke.

"You look decent!" He said. Was that a compliment or an insult?

"Excuse me?" I wasn't really sure what he meant by that. "Of course I'm decent!" I responded

"Well, the other girls looked like they were looking for jobs as escorts." He said and I rolled my eyeballs. Tell me about it.

"You look like you're serious about the job. What's your name?" The lady at the right asked.

"Erica Dale!" I answered smartly.

"Well, Miss Dale, how would you like to be the boss's driver?" He asked and I blinked. Did the lord hear my cries and decide to save me from a boring life of sitting behind a computer all day? I was so happ... Wait, that wasn't the point. Did he just ask me to be a driver? For the boss? As in, CEO of ... Wait, that's still not the point. How did he come up with a conclusion to make me a driver?

"Driver? But I was seeking a job at the finance department." I said hoping for a clear explanation. "Was there a mix up somewhere?"

"Sadly, there's no vacancy. So," he freed his hands "...do you want it?"

"Heck yeah!" I spouted out subconsciously and immediately covered my mouth. "I mean, of course!" I'd be mad not to. No sitting down behind a computer all day, no paperwork, no numbers and no office drama, wait. I think I like that part.

"Can you drive?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah but I don't have a driver's license." I said.

"That's not a problem. Mira here, "he pointed at the lady at his left "...will go with you to get your driver's license and test your driving. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely!" I was glad. I was gonna get my driver's license without spending a dime. I'd get to go places and drive expensive cars that I'd only dream of, just by being the boss's driver. How cool was that?

I was so excited that I didn't stop to think why a billionaire didn't have a driver or why he needed me, a girl, to drive him around.

"By the way, you'll need to dye your hair black." Mira said as we set off.

"What's wrong with my hair?" I asked touching it lightly.

"Mr King doesn't like the color orange and certainly not on a woman. He despises it." She said but I didn't give a damn. I was proud of my orange hair.

Just because he disliked it, didn't mean everyone else should as

well. I can't change it. If he fires me because of it then so be it.