The Art of Hating You

Sara groggily opened one eye to find her alarm clock blaring loudly on her nightstand. She let out a groan and rolled over, pulling the covers over her head.

"Maddy, turn it off!" She mumbled, her voice muffled by the blankets.

Madison stomped into Sara's room, looking frazzled. "Come on, Sara! You're going to be late!" she exclaimed, snatching up the alarm clock and silencing it.

Sara sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Five more minutes," she begged.

Madison threw up her hands in exasperation. "You don't have five more minutes! You have an interview in an hour, and you still need to shower and get dressed!"

Sara yawned and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be fine," she said, but Madison was having none of it.

"No, you won't be fine!" Madison said, grabbing Sara's arm and pulling her out of bed. "You're going to be late, and you're going to blow it! Now come on, let's get moving!"

Maddy dragged Sara into the bathroom, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "You're going to be late, Sara! You need to wake up!"

Sara stumbled along, her eyes half-closed. "Just five more minutes..." she mumbled.

Maddy had had enough. She pushed Sara into the shower stall and turned the faucet to cold. The sudden rush of icy water hit Sara like a slap in the face.

Sara's eyes jerked open as the cold water cascaded down on her. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat. "Ahh! Maddy!" she exclaimed, her voice shrill with shock.

Maddy stood outside the shower, a satisfied smirk on her face. "That should wake you up," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sara stood under the cold water, her eyes wide with shock. She was fully awake now, and she glared at Maddy through the clear shower door. "You're going to pay for this," she muttered, her teeth chattering with cold.

Maddy walked towards the door, a smug smile still plastered on her face. "We'll see about that," she said, referring to Sara's threat of revenge. "But for now, get ready! Breakfast is on the table. I'm leaving; I don't want to be late. Mr. Reed won't like it."

She glanced at Sara, who was still shivering under the cold water. "Good luck with your interview, by the way. I'll see you tonight. Bye!"

With that, Maddy closed the door behind her, leaving Sara to her morning routine.

Sara rolled her eyes, still feeling a bit dazed from the sudden cold shower. "Thanks for the wake-up call, Maddy," she muttered to herself, shaking her head.

****

Sara stepped out of her apartment, feeling a bit more awake and alert after her cold shower. She was dressed in a crisp white blouse and a tailored black skirt, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She had grabbed a piece of toast on her way out the door and was now munching on it as she walked.

She had her profile clutched in one hand, the papers rustling slightly in the morning breeze. Her coat was slung over her arm, ready to be slipped on when she boarded the bus.

As she walked, Sara took a bite of her toast, the crunch of the crust and the softness of the bread providing a satisfying contrast. She chewed slowly, her eyes scanning the street ahead of her as she made her way to the bus stop.

Sara had a big interview at NovaTech Inc., a leading technology firm, for the position of Senior Business Analyst. She had graduated at the top of her class from the University of Tehran with a degree in Business Administration and had high expectations for her career.

Born and raised in Tehran, Sara had always been driven to succeed. Her parents, though loving and supportive, were not wealthy, and Sara had worked hard to secure scholarships and part-time jobs to fund her education. After completing her degree, she had decided to take a chance and move to America, hoping to find better job opportunities and a brighter future.

Sara's last job had been at a prestigious financial firm, where she had been earning a good salary, but the workload had been overwhelming, and the CEO had made her feel uncomfortable with his constant attention. Despite her best efforts, she had found it difficult to cope with the stress and had eventually decided to quit.

That had been three months ago, and since then, Sara had been searching for a new job, but it hadn't been easy. Her old boss, Mr. Franklin Jenkins, had been reluctant to give her a good reference, despite her excellent performance, and this had made it harder for her to land interviews.

But Sara was determined and persistent, and she had finally managed to secure an interview at NovaTech Inc. She was excited about the opportunity and was confident that her skills and experience made her a strong candidate for the position.

Sara's eyes scanned the bus as she rode to her interview, her mind racing with thoughts of her desperate need for a job. It had been three long months since she'd quit her last position, and her savings were dwindling rapidly. She'd applied to countless jobs, but so far, nothing had panned out.

As she gazed out the window, Sara felt a sense of anxiety wash over her. She couldn't afford to be picky, not now. She needed a job, any job, to pay her bills and keep a roof over her head. The thought of having to move back in with her parents in Tehran was unbearable. She'd come to America to build a better life for herself, not to fail.

Sara's hands clenched into fists as she thought about her old boss, Mr. Jenkins, and how he'd refused to give her a good reference. It was unfair, and it had made her job search so much harder. But she couldn't let that hold her back. She had to keep pushing forward, no matter what.

The bus pulled up to Sara's stop, and she stood up, smoothing out her skirt and taking a deep breath. It was time to put on a confident face and nail this interview. She had to get this job. Her future depended on it.

Sara stood nervously outside the sleek glass façade of NovaTech's headquarters, her eyes fixed on the large digital clock above the entrance. She was running perilously late, thanks to the unreliable bus that had dropped her off several blocks away with barely enough time to sprint to her destination.

As she checked her watch for what felt like the hundredth time, Sara's anxiety spiked. She had been preparing for this interview for weeks, researching the company and practicing her responses to every possible question. But now, as she stood outside the building, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to blow it.

With a deep breath, Sara pushed open the door and stepped into the gleaming lobby, her heels clicking on the polished marble floor. She made her way to the reception desk, where a friendly-looking woman with a warm smile greeted her.

"Hi there, can I help you?" the receptionist asked, eyeing Sara's flustered expression.

Sara took another deep breath and composed herself. "Hi, I'm Sara. I'm here for an interview with the Senior Business Analyst team."

The receptionist nodded and checked her computer screen. "Ah, yes. You're running a bit behind schedule, aren't you?"

Sara nodded sheepishly. "I'm so sorry. The bus was late, and... well, here I am."

The receptionist smiled sympathetically. "Don't worry, we've all been there. Let me just check with the team to see if they're ready for you."

Sara stood patiently in the lobby, fidgeting slightly with her purse strap as she waited for the receptionist to confirm her appointment. A few minutes ticked by, and the receptionist finally looked up from her computer screen with a friendly smile.

"Okay, Sara, you're all set. The team is ready to see you, but actually, the boss would like to meet with you personally. Her office is on the 4th floor."

Sara's eyes widened slightly as she processed this unexpected twist. She had been preparing to meet with a team, not the boss herself. But she quickly composed herself, nodding professionally.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at the receptionist. "I'll head up to the 4th floor now."

The receptionist nodded and handed Sara a visitor's badge. "Just take the elevator to the 4th floor. The boss's office is the only one up there, so you can't miss it."

Sara took the badge and clipped it to her jacket, then turned to make her way to the elevator. As she walked, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in her stomach. What did the boss want to meet with her about? Was this a good sign, or a bad one?

She pushed the button to call the elevator, and a few seconds later, the doors slid open with a soft whoosh. Sara stepped inside and pressed the button for the 4th floor, feeling the elevator begin to rise smoothly.

As she ascended, Sara took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She had prepared for this interview, and she was ready to showcase her skills and experience. Whatever the boss had in store for her, she was determined to make a good impression.

Sara stepped out of the elevator and onto the 4th floor, her eyes scanning the sleek, modern decor. She spotted a single door at the far end of the hall, adorned with a polished brass nameplate that read "CEO.". She took a deep breath, smoothed her jacket, and made her way to the door.

She raised her hand and knocked softly, her eyes fixed on the door handle. A deep, resonant voice called out from within, "Enter!"

Sara's smile brightened as she pushed open the door and stepped inside. But her smile faltered, and her eyes widened in shock as she took in the figure seated in front of the massive wooden desk.

It was Franklin Jenkins, her old boss from her previous job. The same man who had made her life miserable with his constant criticism and unrealistic expectations. The same man who had ultimately driven her to quit her job and search for a new opportunity.

Sara's eyes darted to the figure seated behind the desk, and she saw that it was a woman with a kind face and a warm smile. The nameplate on the desk read "Nova Carter, CEO.". Sara's gaze returned to Franklin, who was watching her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Sara's smile had dropped, replaced by a mixture of shock, dismay, and a hint of fear. She felt like she had been punched in the gut, and she struggled to catch her breath. What was Franklin doing here? And why was he sitting in the CEO's office?

Franklin's face broke into a wide smile as he saw Sara, and he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together in a gesture of satisfaction. Nova, the CEO, smiled warmly at Sara and gestured to the empty chair beside Franklin.

"Please, Sara, have a seat," Nova said, her voice friendly and welcoming.

Sara felt like she had been punched in the gut. She had been so hopeful about this job, and now it seemed like it was slipping through her fingers. She knew she couldn't work with Franklin again, not after everything they had been through. She felt a sense of despair wash over her as she sat down, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Nova leaned forward, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "I have to say, Sara, I was very impressed with your profile. You have a fantastic skill set, and I think you would be a great fit for our team."

Sara's eyes snapped up to Nova's face, and she felt a surge of surprise. How could Nova possibly think she was a good fit for the team, not after Franklin had...?

But before she could finish the thought, Nova dropped a bombshell. "I'm also happy to see that you used to work at my fiancé's company," Nova said, smiling at Franklin.

Sara's eyes widened in shock as she turned to Franklin, her mind reeling with the implications. Franklin was Nova's fiancé?

Nova's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned forward, her voice taking on a gentle, probing tone. "Sara, can you tell me why you left Franklin's company? You were one of our top performers, and we were sad to see you go."

Sara's gaze flickered to Franklin, who was watching her with an amused smirk on his face. She felt a surge of discomfort as she realized he was enjoying her discomfort. Nova's question hung in the air, waiting for an answer, but Sara's mind was frozen.

Just as she was about to speak, Sara felt a sudden, jolting sensation. Franklin's hand had slipped under the table, his fingers wrapping around her thigh. Sara's eyes widened in shock as she felt his hand caressing her skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

But it wasn't a gentle touch. Franklin's fingers dug deep into her thigh, his grip tightening like a vice. Sara flinched, her body jerking away from the painful pressure. She felt a wave of panic wash over her, her heart racing with fear.

Franklin's smirk never wavered, his eyes glinting with amusement as he continued to hold her thigh in a crushing grip. Sara's eyes darted to Nova, hoping against hope that she would notice something was wrong. But Nova's expression remained serene, oblivious to the horror unfolding beneath the table.

Just as Franklin's grip on Sara's thigh was becoming unbearable, a young woman walked into the room, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee. Sara's eyes lit up with a plan, and she forced a bright smile onto her face, pretending that everything was fine.

The woman set the cups down on the table, and Sara's hand shot out, grabbing one of the cups. Before anyone could react, she hurled the scalding hot coffee directly at Franklin's pants.

Franklin let out a loud yelp as the hot liquid splashed onto his lap, and Nova's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my god, Sara, what are you doing?" Nova exclaimed.

Sara's smile never wavered, but her voice took on a cold, icy tone. "I'm helping Mr. Franklin to get down his horniness," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "It's a little something I like to call 'coffee therapy.'."

Nova's face turned bright red with anger, but Sara just laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "You know what, Nova? Your company may be big, but you're stupid. You're marrying this man, who thinks every girl is his toy, just because they work under him. That's the reason I left my old job, and it's better for you if you run from him too."

With that, Sara grabbed her file and bag and stood up, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I don't think I'll be needing this job after all," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "I'd rather die than work for a company that tolerates this kind of behavior."

And with that, Sara turned on her heel and walked out of the office, leaving Nova and Franklin staring after her in shock.

****

Sara walked down the sidewalk, her feet carrying her on autopilot, her mind a thousand miles away. The disappointment and frustration of the job interview still lingered, making her feel lost and uncertain about her future.

Just as she was starting to lose all hope, her phone rang, shrill and insistent. She hesitated for a moment before answering, her heart skipping a beat as she saw her mother's name on the caller ID.

"Hello, Mom," Sara said, trying to sound cheerful despite the turmoil brewing inside her.

"Salam, Sara," her mother replied, her voice firm and strict. "How are you, dear? I was just thinking about you and wondering how your job search is going."

Sara hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's going, Mom," she said vaguely. "I've had a few interviews, but nothing's panned out yet."

Her mother's voice was unyielding. "Sara, you need to find a job soon. If you can't find one, then you'll have to come back home. And if you come back home, then you'll get married. We've already found a suitable husband for you."

Sara felt like she'd been punched in the gut. A suitable husband? Chosen by her parents, without her input or consent? It was a nightmare come true.

"Mom, I don't want to get married yet," Sara said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm not ready."

Her mother's tone turned icy. "You'll do as you're told, Sara. If you can't take care of yourself, then you'll have to come back home and let us take care of you. And that means getting married. Do you understand?"

Sara felt a wave of fear wash over her. She knew that her mother would not be swayed, that she would do everything in her power to ensure that Sara did as she was told.

"Yes, Mom," Sara said, trying to sound resigned. "I understand."

Her mother's voice was firm and final. "Good. I expect to hear from you soon. If you don't have a job, then you'll be coming home. And if you come home, then you'll be getting married. That's final."

Sara hung up the phone; she felt a wave of despair wash over her. She couldn't believe her mother was still trying to control her life, still trying to dictate her every move. The thought of being forced into a marriage with some man her parents had chosen for her was suffocating.

"Why can't they just let me live my own life?" Sara thought to herself, feeling a surge of frustration and anger. "Why can't they trust me to make my own decisions?"

She thought back to the conversation she had just had with her mother and how her mother had made it clear that she had no choice but to come back home and get married if she didn't find a job. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"What am I going to do?" Sara thought, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. "I don't want to go back home; I don't want to get married. But what choice do I have?"

****