They Got Me Fired, So I Went Home to My Fortune

I toss my phone aside, shed my composure, and bolt into the restroom to retch. My disgust for Noah and Isabelle had reached its peak.

I ignored all their texts after that. Instead, I reached out to the C-suite of Larson Group for more information about my onboarding process and the purview of my role.

The next day, Isabelle's texts went off in the class group chat.

She first sent a pretty picture of herself at her intern workstation in Larson Group, followed by a profound caption that read, "With new environments come new challenges. I'm grateful to take them on with the help and guidance of a certain someone."

The "certain someone" was no mystery, for she deliberately tagged Noah.

The group chat blew up at once with our peers, all oblivious to the truth, congratulating her. They also rallied to persuade Noah and Isabelle to buy them a celebratory meal.

Noah replied to Isabelle's loaded text with an even more loaded hugging emoji. Their back-and-forth continued for some time, as loving banters did.

I snorted at their crude performance and wished them the best. I hoped their love lasted forever.

The day before my official first day at Larson Group, I kept count of the minutes and seconds that ticked by as I readied to leave home.

As expected, I hadn't gone far from my place when I accidentally-on-purpose ran into Noah and Isabelle, who were walking in the opposite direction.

The latter was dressed in brand-new work attire, head to toe in designer. Delicate makeup colored and accentuated her face, which was awash with a happy glow as she linked arms with Noah.

Noah was staring at her with concern as he muttered something to her, presumably sweet pleasantries, looking like the perfect boyfriend.

But when he noticed me, his gaze immediately became critical. He appraised my well-worn blouse and nondescript slacks, her eyes full of arrogance as he openly judged me, the pathetic loser.

I met his silent critique fearlessly. "Get out of the way."

Noah frowned at my comment. He cleared his throat, then said in an authoritative tone, "Eloise, how are the materials coming along? I figured I'd save you a trip and head over to your place with Isabelle."

I highly doubted they wanted the materials more than they wanted to mock me for my failure.

He eyed my outfit again. "Are you going for an interview? Did you get a job? Whereabouts is the company?"

Isabelle immediately dropped Noah's arm and stepped forward. She made to take my hand like we were old friends, but I smoothly dodged her touch.

Her hand paused mid-air, awkwardness flashing across her features. But she didn't take long to recover from the snubbing and resume her usual ostentatious, sickeningly sweet self.

"Eloise, don't be too hard on Noah. He was only looking out for me… How's job-hunting going for you? Would you like me to ask around? If you land a job near my workplace, we could even rent a place together!"

"No need. I'm not looking for a job," I said.

Isabelle's eyes twinkled wickedly. "What? Haven't you found a job? What are you going to do? The season for hiring soon-to-be graduates will be over soon!"

Noah looked grim. "That's incredibly lazy behavior, Eloise. I told you to apply to other companies as soon as possible. Are you expecting Isabelle and me to pay for your upkeep if you continue to be jobless?"

For some reason, his baseless sense of superiority nearly made me laugh.

Isabelle muttered something to placate him, then blinked her large, innocent eyes at me. "Eloise, if you're having trouble landing a job, I have a friend who's looking for an outsourced administrator.

"It's hard work, but you could learn something from it. I think it suits you."

An outsourced administrator? Me? Was this Isabelle's roundabout way of calling me incompetent and suited for menial work?

Beside her, Noah spoke up in favor of her ridiculous suggestion and began to lecture me as if he stood on higher ground. "Isabelle's right. It's about time you get a reality check, Eloise, and stop dwelling on fantasies.

"Not everyone could get into a big corporation like Larson Group. You only got the job offer the last time because you were lucky."

I stared at the pair of weasels before me. They sang the same tune as if they were already winners in life. To them, I was nothing more than a pathetic loser, disqualified and unwanted.

"Thanks for your concern, but I've already found a new job," was all I said.

Noah and Isabelle exchanged a look. Clearly, they didn't believe me.

The former sputtered. "Y-You found a new job? A small company, I bet. Tell us the name, and we'll see if it's a good fit for you."

Isabelle had the nerve to look worried. "Be careful, Eloise. You don't know if it's a scam. There are plenty of shady companies preying on college students desperate for work like you."

Their disgustingly pretentious expressions were a study in theatrics.

A snort escaped me. "You'll find out what my job is tomorrow."