“Are you at least taking film classes?”
I shake my head. “I’m actually not in school right now.”
He furrows his brow. “You’re not in school?”
“I hope that’s not an issue.”
Leon frowns as he leans back, tapping his pen on the desk. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Eric,” he says, “but this is a college internship. You have to be a student to apply.”
I blink in confusion. “Are you sure? I don’t remember seeing that online.” There has to be some misunderstanding.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he sighs. “The university typically funds the program. So there isn’t really a way around it. Why aren’t you in school anyway?”
I stare at my hands again. Daniel and I were supposed to go together. “I just needed time to figure things out,” I say vaguely.
“Did something happen?”
“It’s nothing,” I assure him. “I’m reapplying this year. I’ve already started on a few applications.”
Leon stares at me from across the desk. Then he reaches for something behind him. “Well, if you’re planning on going to school, why don’t you apply for this,” he says, handing me a folded sheet of paper. “It’s a film scholarship. I know several aspiring filmmakers who have won over the years. And I think your stuff is strong enough. Something you can work toward. Until then, why don’t you reach out again next year, once you have things figured out.” He slides my resume back to me.
I stare at the desk and back at him. The interview has barely started. It can’t be over just like that. “But…” My voice stutters a little. “Maybe there’s something else I can apply for. Is there a different position here?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Are you sure?”
Leon scratches his chin, thinking about it. “Well, we might have an opening for an assistant role. But, quite frankly, I don’t think you have the experience for that.”
“What would count as experience?”
“The internship would be a good start,” he says with a straight face. There’s a silence as I sit there, unsure what else to say. “I’m sorry about this, Eric,” Leon continues. “There isn’t really anything I can do. I hope you understand.”
At this point, it’s clear it’s over. I didn’t even have a chance to begin with. All because I’m not in school right now. Itake the piece of paper and rise from my seat. “Thanks for your time,” I say. Then I grab the bag from the floor and head out.
“Good luck,” Leon says from behind me.
As I step into the hallway, I stop short. I’m not sure where the burst of bravery comes from, but I have nothing to lose at this point, right? I take a deep breath as I turn back inside, facing Leon again.
I look him right in the eyes and say, “Okay, you’re right. I don’t have the experience. And I’m not a student in some fancy school that will pay for the internship. But I’m smart, I learn fast, and I will work very hard if you give me a—”
“Did you forget something?” a woman’s voice interrupts me, pulling me out of my daydream. I blink and find myself still standing in the hallway, staring back at the office door. I turn around. Sonny is waiting for a response.
“Sorry… I was just heading out.”
I leave through the elevator, hoping Leon realizes he’s made a mistake by the time the doors open again. I think of the scene inThe Devil Wears Prada,the one where the assistant chases Andy into the lobby after Miranda changes her mind at the end of the interview. But nobody follows me down to offer a second chance. I wish this was one of my films I was directing so I could control the storyline. But nothing works out like it does in the movies.
I’m sitting in the garden of theArt Institute, watching leaves fall into the fountain. I didn’t really know where else to go. Istare at the blank screen of my phone for a long time. It’s one of those moments when I wish I could text Daniel, tell him about the interview. He would know what to say to make things better. But the thought of no one answering makes my chest hurt again. I close my eyes and try to push him out of my mind. I shouldn’t let that stupid interview get to me. I knew it was a long shot, anyway.
The paper bag sits on my lap. I’m still not sure why I brought it with me. I’m thinking about opening it when my phone vibrates. Jasmine is calling me. It’s feels like a long time since we last spoke. She’s been really busy with school these days, double majoring in biology and music. I pick up right away.
“Hey. What are you doing?” Her voice instantly soothes me, like an old song I haven’t heard in a while.
“Just sitting around. Why?”
“I just got in,” she says.
“Wait, you’re in Chicago? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”
