BAM! BAM! BAM!
A pillow landed right on my face—boom. Like a soft explosion of feathers. I groaned and pulled the blanket tighter around me. Not today, Satan. I'm still asleep.
"Hey, dustball! You're gonna be late! Get up already!" That was my brother—my own personal human alarm clock. No snooze button, no shame.
"Ugh… five more minutes," I mumbled, eyes still closed, waving him off like he was a mosquito.
"You sure? Go ahead, keep chasing your dream of becoming a professional sleeper. It's not like you have a job interview today or anything," he said, full sarcasm mode, fake concern included.
WAIT.
I bolted upright—like a caffeine-powered zombie.
"OH MY GOD. My interview! What time is it?!"
"8 AM. Chill. Isn't your schedule at 9?"
I jumped out of bed like I was in The Amazing Race. "WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP EARLIER?! You're literally the worst brother ever!"
"I tried!" he said, raising an eyebrow. "'Ugh, I'm still sleepy~ Don't talk to me~' That was you."
"GET OUT. GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" I yelled, throwing random stuff at him while he just laughed and left.
I slammed the door and went full beast mode. Speed shower, emergency outfit, mismatched socks. I looked like a walking deadline.
"Bye, MOM! Love you!" I shouted as I passed through the kitchen.
"You're not eating?" she asked, holding a spatula like it was a TV mic.
"No time!" my brother chimed in. "She deserves it."
"Tell Dad I'm leaving! BYEEE!" I bolted out the door like I had front-row tickets to Coachella.
---
Somehow, I made it. Barely.
Out of breath like I'd just run a half-marathon, I stopped in front of the actual fairy-tale-looking place: the Commonwealth of Lyndenhold Royal Palace.
Yep. The palace.
It was giving major I'm rich and you can't sit with us energy. Super classy. White marble, gold trim, even the outside felt like it had chandeliers. I couldn't decide if I should walk in or pull out my phone for a quick IG story.
It was quiet but echo-y. Tall windows, high ceilings, even the dust in the sunlight looked like glitter. And the smell? Lavender, freshly washed linen, and a hint of wealth and power. Very girl boss meets Bridgerton.
"Wow," I whispered. I felt like a background character in a rom-com about royalty.
Then a receptionist assisted me inside. I was led through this Pinterest-worthy office. Straight to the HR interview.
"Do you have patience?" the HR rep asked. "The job can get pretty demanding."
Without missing a beat, I said, "I once waited an entire year for the LRT Line 1 to move. I got this."
She laughed. "Alright. You're hired."
"Wait—WHAT?"
"Congrats! You're officially the prince's new secretary. He'll be back next month. You'll be on-call for now. Sound good?"
"Yes! Super game!"
"All the details are in the contract. Make sure you read it."
"Got it! Thank you!" I even bowed like I was in a K-drama before walking out like I'd just won the lottery.
I stepped out the palace gates like I'd just soft-launched my dream life.
I got in.
I have a job.
I'm officially a working girl!
My phone buzzed. Of course—it was Neven. My brother. Certified troll since birth.
"Hey, you done? Should I pick you up, or are you applying to be palace furniture now?"
"I'm done. Come get me."
"Don't go wandering off, I don't want to play Where's Waldo: Real Life Edition."
"Ugh. Just hurry."
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up. In joggers, a hoodie, and his signature sad-looking shoes. Still the king of anti-fashion.
"You're late," I complained as I got in.
"Wow, Miss Royalty. Want me to roll out a red carpet next time?"
"So? Wanna know the result?"
"Don't tell me—they rejected you?" He looked ready to explode. "Ugh, Nixie, don't be sad. They're idiots if they didn't hire you. You're literally the smartest—"
"HAHAHAHA! Gotcha! I got in, loser!"
He gave me the most deadpan look. "Hilarious. Not."
"Your face earlier was priceless."
"Your treat for bao buns."
"YES. Best brother ever!"
"Wow. You switch up fast."
So we stopped by the bao bun shop. I ate like it was my last meal.
"Mmm. Bao is life," I said, eyes sparkling.
"So when do you start?"
"The prince isn't back yet. I'm kind of in standby mode."
"Oooh. Standby, not idling. Nice."
"Hey! I'm never just lounging around."
"Sure, Miss 'Sleep-at-2AM-Read-at-3AM'."
---
When we got home, Neven flopped onto the couch. "I lost sleep last night thinking how I'd comfort you if you cried over rejection."
"Should've cried just to get free ice cream," I joked.
Then boom—Dad appeared.
"Hey kiddo! How did it go?"
I raised the contract like Simba in The Lion King.
"I GOT INTO THE PALACE!"
"YESSS! That's my girl!" Dad beamed with pride. Then he called out to Mom.
I ran to the kitchen. "MOM! I GOT THE JOB!"
She cheered, still holding a frying pan. Her hug? Full-on awards night proud mom moment.
"Tonight, we celebrate! Fancy dinner it is!"
"YEEEES!"
Later, in my room, bao bun in one hand, contract in the other, I flopped onto my bed.
I made it.
My heart was racing. Excitement + nerves + a little bit of hyper.
And then it hit me…
Wait… Who even is the prince? Is he cute?
Please, universe. Let him be hot.