~~~

Alina

I stared down at the letter that I held, my grip tightening into fists, causing the paper to crumple in my hands.

Rejection.

Again.

I crumpled it into a tiny ball and threw the unoriginal letter (thanking me for applying, but sadly I was not chosen, but urged to try again next year) into the waste basket, and I face planted onto my bed, my face landing right in my pillow. I let out a loud scream into the fabric, kicking my legs up and down in a very violent manner. Reapply next year. Try again next year. There could be a spot for you next year. You'll have a better chance next year. Next year. Next year. NEXT YEAR. I DON'T HAVE NEXT YEAR. IT WON'T WORK. I NEED TO GET AN INTERNSHIP NOW.

I rolled over onto my back, pressing my lips into a thin line in order not to cry. Of all the internships I had applied for, that was the one that I was most excited for. It was a summer internship under a semi-famous designer in the heart of Paris. I knew the chances were slim, but I went ahead and got my hopes up, and eventually crushed. Out of the 32 internships I had applied for, 30 came back as rejections. I lay on my bed, holding back tears, unable to fully accept the 31st. I grabbed my pillow and pulled it over my face, letting out another scream into it, my legs returning to their violent kicking.

"Hey, A-line, your mom wanted to- woah." My door opened and someone walked in, and based on the voice and horrible nickname, it was Emma, my best friend. I stopped my kicking, but didn't remove the pillo