JULY
7:30 AM
The July sun slanted through half-drawn blinds, casting golden ribbons across Katherine's bedroom floor. Outside, birds performed their morning symphony, as if orchestrating the day's possibilities. It should have been enough to wake her gently, ease her into consciousness—instead, her alarm shattered the serenity with its aggressive electronic wail.
Katherine jolted upright, disoriented. She silenced the alarm and surveyed her room through sleep-blurred eyes. Nothing special awaited her today—just another sweltering summer day in a seemingly endless string of them. With a resigned sigh, she dragged herself from beneath the covers and shuffled toward the bathroom, unaware that today the trajectory of her life would irreversibly change.
8:50 AM
"Where is it?" Katherine muttered frantically, hopping on one foot while scanning her apartment for its mate. She was catastrophically late for orientation—an orientation she'd completely forgotten about until her friend's text arrived fifteen minutes ago: "See you there in 20!"
Years of preparation, endless nights of studying, and somehow she'd forgotten the very day that would determine her professional future. She spotted the missing shoe peeking out from beneath her bed and snatched it up, pausing only briefly to assess her reflection. Her dark hair fell in messy waves around her flushed face. Good enough. She grabbed her bag and bolted.
By some miracle—or more accurately, by her friend Isa's deliberate deception—Katherine arrived with four minutes to spare. The orientation wasn't scheduled to begin until 10:00 AM. Isa, well-acquainted with Katherine's chronic tardiness, had manufactured the urgency.
"You're welcome," Isa whispered with a smirk when Katherine slid breathlessly into the seat beside her.
9:56 AM
The low murmur of conversation filled the auditorium as Katherine's heartbeat finally slowed to normal. The program coordinator droned through preliminary announcements while Katherine discreetly checked her reflection in her phone camera. Then the introduction of presenters began, and Katherine's attention drifted up to the stage.
Time seemed to slow, then stop entirely, when her gaze locked onto a pair of eyes that would haunt her for months to come. Despite the clinical fluorescent lighting of the auditorium, those eyes gleamed with warmth and intelligence—amber flecked with gold, curious and gentle simultaneously. Though a mask obscured the lower half of his face, those eyes telegraphed a smile that reached across the crowded room and settled directly into Katherine's chest.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and melodic, with an undercurrent of passion that betrayed his enthusiasm for the program. Katherine realized she'd been staring only when those remarkable eyes met hers directly. Heat flooded her face as she quickly looked away, pretending sudden interest in her blank notepad. But the damage was done—her brain had already filed away every detail of him, creating an imprint that refused to fade even after the presenters departed and the orientation concluded.
The information she should have absorbed—about team assignments, program expectations, opportunities—all vanished beneath the single persistent thought: those eyes.
OCTOBER
10:24 AM
Autumn painted the world outside Katherine's office window in burnt orange and crimson. Three months had passed since orientation, and though the memory of those eyes occasionally surfaced, Katherine had resigned herself to the encounter being nothing more than a fleeting moment.
Her phone chimed with an incoming email. She glanced down, then froze. The program—the same one from the orientation—was inviting candidates for interviews. With trembling fingers, she selected an interview time, her mind already racing ahead to possible questions, outfits, preparation strategies. Not once did she consider who might be conducting those interviews.
THE NEXT DAY, 5:50 PM
The interview waiting area hummed with nervous energy. Katherine chatted easily with the coordinators, her natural charisma momentarily masking her anxiety. Mid-sentence, she felt it—a prickling awareness, as if the very air around her had shifted.
She turned, and there they were: those same captivating eyes, now widening in recognition. Her heart performed gymnastics behind her ribs.
"No awkward staring this time," she commanded herself, and before she could overthink it, she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Katherine."
"Alex," he replied, his voice even richer up close. His hand enveloped hers—warm, solid, lingering just a heartbeat longer than strictly necessary. "You were at the orientation in July."
It wasn't a question. He remembered.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they'd known each other for years rather than minutes. When he discovered her passion for One Direction, Alex's entire demeanor brightened.
"What's your favorite song?" he asked, already moving toward the computer controlling the waiting room's ambient music.
"'Night Changes,'" she answered without hesitation.
The opening notes filled the room just as Katherine's name was called for her interview. As she gathered her things, Alex said softly, "I really hope you get in. You'd be very fun to work with."
His high five felt like a promise.
NOVEMBER
9:35 AM
The email arrived during a particularly tedious meeting. Katherine's heart sank as she read the politely worded rejection. She excused herself, needing air and solitude to process her disappointment.
She was so lost in thought that she nearly collided with Alex in the hallway. One look at her face and his smile faded.
"What happened?" he asked, concern etching lines between his brows.
When she explained about the rejection, genuine disappointment shadowed his eyes. "That's their loss," he said firmly. "Truly. But listen—" His expression brightened. "I can still get you one of the program hoodies if you want. Small consolation, but..."
The simple offer—so thoughtful, so unexpected—transformed Katherine's mood entirely. "I would love that," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
As Alex walked away, Katherine remained rooted to the spot, wondering how a near-stranger could so effortlessly lift her spirits when her own friends' platitudes had fallen flat.
5:30 PM
Katherine was gathering her things to leave when Alex appeared at her office door, looking slightly nervous—a new expression she hadn't seen on him before.
"I have something for you," he said, stepping forward and extending his hand. In his palm lay a delicate bracelet—nothing expensive, but thoughtfully chosen. Before she could properly thank him, he was gone, leaving Katherine staring after him in stunned silence.
She immediately sought out Isabel.
"He likes you, dummy," Isa declared after hearing the full saga. "And you clearly like him. So why are we even having this conversation?"
"Because what if I'm reading too much into it?" Katherine countered. "What if he's just nice?"
Isabel's withering look said everything. "Someone needs to make the first move, and since he's already given you multiple signals that you've apparently decided to ignore, it's going to have to be you."
Katherine hesitated, and Isabel delivered the final blow: "You're going to regret it if you don't take the risk. Ten years from now, you'll still be wondering what might have happened if you'd just been brave for five seconds."
Twenty minutes later, Katherine stood outside the meeting room where Alex was finishing up, her heart hammering against her ribs. When he emerged, surprise and pleasure illuminated his face.
"Hi," she said, her voice steadier than she expected. "I was wondering if I could get your Instagram?"
Something flickered in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or admiration at her directness. He took her phone, typed in his username, and returned it with a smile that made her knees weak.
Their texts began immediately, growing increasingly flirtatious as the hours passed. By mid-afternoon, Alex's compliments had Katherine floating, feeling seen in a way she never had before. When he suggested meeting in person, she abandoned her scheduled meeting without a second thought.
3:15 PM
"No one has ever complimented me so much in one day," Katherine admitted as they walked the perimeter of the building.
Alex stopped walking abruptly. "That's criminal," he said, his voice low and serious. "You should be complimented hourly, at minimum."
The intensity of his gaze made her breath catch. For a suspended moment, she thought—hoped—he might kiss her. The air between them practically crackled with possibility. But Katherine held back, needing absolute certainty before taking that leap.
They parted ways with the tension unresolved, but Katherine had reached her decision. That evening, she texted him the truth: I like you. Not just as a friend.
His response came immediately: I've liked you since orientation. Those few seconds of eye contact have kept me awake more nights than I care to admit.
Relief and exhilaration coursed through her. When you looked at me today, I wanted to kiss you, but I wasn't sure.
You should have taken the risk, he replied.
Emboldened, she teased: I don't think you would be able to kiss me. I don't think you've got the guts. I asked for your Instagram. I confessed first. You're too shy.
Is that a challenge? came his swift response. Because if it is, you're definitely going to regret it.
We shall see, sweetheart, she countered.
Bet. Meet me in the basement at 8:45 tomorrow, darlin'.
Bet.
NOVEMBER 10
8:45 AM
Katherine waited in the basement, pretending nonchalance as she sipped her Monster energy drink. She was certain Alex's confidence existed only in text messages. In person, he'd revert to charming but restrained—
Alex appeared, looking dangerously determined. Without preamble, he led her to a secluded stairwell she'd only used once or twice before. As they climbed, he maintained casual conversation, but something in his demeanor had shifted, an undercurrent of intention that made Katherine's pulse quicken.
Suddenly, mid-sentence, he stopped. In one fluid motion, he turned to her, his eyes asking a silent question. When she didn't back away, he gently pinned her against the wall.
The energy drink can crumpled forgotten in her grip as Alex's lips met hers. The kiss was tentative at first, a question rather than a demand. Then Katherine responded, and all hesitation evaporated. His lips were impossibly soft, his breath warm against her skin. She felt herself dissolving, every molecule in her body reconfiguring itself around this singular moment.
Her fingers found their way into his hair, drawing him closer. His tongue gently sought entrance, and she granted it without thought. The world narrowed to just this—his hands at her waist, her racing heart, the taste of him overwhelming her senses.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and dazed, Katherine became aware of the crushed can in her hand, energy drink dripping between her fingers. Alex noticed too and laughed softly, the sound vibrating through her.
He walked her to her office, leaning close at her door to whisper, "Darling, don't ever doubt me again."
His smile as he walked away appeared innocent to anyone watching—but Katherine now knew better. She'd seen behind the mask, glimpsed the fire beneath the restraint. And she couldn't wait to burn.