The Interview Pt. 1 (Chan x Male Reader)

185 3 6
                                    

content warning: nothing...it's just an interview

word count: 2091
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You tapped your foot anxiously and checked the clock again...3:12 pm. He should've been here by now. Of course, he very well could have been one of the men sitting alone at one of the tables thinking that you were the late party. You didn't know what he looked like, and he wasn't late enough yet for you to stand up and shout his name in the coffee shop like a lost kid in a toy store. So, you waited, hoping that if it got to that point of desperation, he'd take the initiative.

You reviewed the email again to triple-check the interview details. It stated that you were to arrive at the coffee shop at 3:00. You'd offered to go to the headquarters across town, but the recruiter insisted he preferred casual interview settings. You were also instructed to wear a professional black top half unbuttoned. You'd never been given such specific instructions before for interview attire, but you had hoped it would help him identify you when he arrived. Apparently, that wasn't the case.

You clicked on his company website again and found the page all about the CEO. He had so many accolades and degrees that it almost seemed impossible for one person to have accomplished alone. You'd spent hours last night trying to find a photo or personal information about him. You loved finding interests to bring up in interviews that didn't have to do with the job so that they would like you more on a personal level. This man, however, was frustratingly elusive. As far as you could tell, he had no social media profiles, no headshots taken to promote his business, and no news articles written about him even though he was running a successful VR company. The closest you found were editorials about the brand and the products themselves which were interesting but unhelpful.

You took another sip of your coffee and were surprised to find it empty. You checked the time again. 3:27. It was now past the point of running late and verging on having been forgotten about completely. You stood and went to get in line for another coffee. If he showed up, you didn't want to have to awkwardly sit there having nothing to sip on.

You stood and grabbed your laptop case to bring with you to the line. At the same time, the door swung open and a man walked in. He had on black jeans and a partially unbuttoned white shirt. He turned to you immediately and smirked at your exposed chest. You weren't sure it was him, but something about the way he looked at you froze you to the ground, stopping you from moving to the line like you'd planned.

"You must be (y/n)," he greeted you. "I'm Chris."

You noticed he failed to apologize for being late. He extended a hand towards you, and you tried to rearrange the items in your arms so that you could shake it. In the process, you dropped your phone.

"Shit," you cursed and immediately panicked. "Shoot. Sorry." You hadn't even introduced yourself yet, and you were already making a fool of yourself.

"It's fine," he laughed as he knelt down to retrieve your device for you. "I hope you weren't leaving."

"Nope," you explained, deciding to put your bag and empty coffee cup on the table. "I was just headed up for a refill."

He slipped your phone into your bag and took the cup instead. "What are you having?"

You went to answer him, but he held up a finger. He opened the lid and inhaled the smell through his above-average-sized nose.

"Mocha?" he guessed.

You were about to correct him, but he adjusted his answer before you could. "Peppermint mocha? Right?"

You were shocked. Your dropped jaw must've been indicative enough because he walked over to the line proudly. You took a minute to really take him in. He had broad, strong shoulders and looked really fit. His hair was a bit wild, and it looked as though he'd run here. Parts of it looked like it'd been tamed with gel whereas the rest was a curly mess. He was younger than you expected which made the degrees and his successes even more impressive.

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