NATASIA ATTENDED THE FUNERAL. Cried for three days straight. Drank a bit. Considered dying. Then finally, she came to her senses many months later as she served Mr. Romanos his chocolate pancakes with maple syrup. She placed the plate in front of him, glancing at her watch. It was almost time for her to go to university for the meeting. She didn't want to be late.

"Nasia."

"Yes?" her voice was meek, as always, but today was different, it was worse because everything hurt and she was a nervous wreck. University was going to kill her, it felt. "Anything wrong?"

"Did you eat?"

Natasia felt a lump in her throat. And her stomach? She didn't even want to talk about it. "If you need some more pancakes I can just-,"

"-That wasn't my question." He turned around from his seat, icy blue eyes burning her skin. She stepped closer, and he held her wrist and pulled her into her chair. "Did you eat?"

"No." she swallowed her spit. "I didn't."

Her eyes followed his movements as he sliced a bit of the stacked chocolatey goodness, holding it with his fork. With a hand gripping under her chin, he raised the fork to her mouth, waiting for her to open her mouth. "Try it."

She took the tiniest bite, and the chocolate, god, the chocolate melted in her mouth and coated her tongue. Natasia didn't know she was capable of making something so delicious.

"It's good, isn't it?"

Natasia paused, meeting his eyes. "It's okay."

"Is that why your eyes rolled back?"

 "I'm not supposed to say it's good if I made it."

"Is that so?" His grip on her chin tightened.

"Because," she hesitated, and looked around. How was she supposed to explain the embarrassment that came with praising yourself? It made her feel like she was arrogant. "It's-,"

His finger cut her off, what he was doing with it. The chocolate below her mouth, he'd wiped it off with the tip of his finger and her heart fluttered because his grip on her waist still hadn't loosened the least. He wiped the chocolate off his finger with a napkin and turned back to look at her, and it was clear she had all his attention.

It shook her to the core. "I have to go to university today."

"I'm aware." He answered, taking a bite out of the saME FORK THAT HE HAD JUST FED HER FROM.

Her eyes widened as he chugged down an entire glass of orange juice in less than a minute. He ate as a man starved, she thought. "That means I need to go now or I won't be able to catch the bus."

The grip on her waist did not loosen. He did not let her go, and he wasn't talking either, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do. So she sat beside him as he ate, and once he was done, she thought he would let her leave, but he hadn't, and Natasia sat there confused and stressed because she didn't want to be late.

He stacked another pile of pancakes on a clean plate and dug in with a fresh fork and butter knife. Held the food in front of her mouth, waiting for her to take a bite. And that went on for a good five minutes and then he told her that she was ready for the day, which for some reason made her want to cry, and then she smiled meekly and hurried to the bus stop because she knew he would offer to drive her himself.

Natasia concluded that he was not the asshole that she thought he would be. He could be a serial killer or a drug dealer or whatever else that existed but for now, he was a kind man.

She knew that would change down the line, but things were going well for now.

*

Getting into a Health Science and Public Policy program was not easy, especially at the Hallrington Institute. Natasia knew that well, and she still applied. Only a few weeks later, she was asked to schedule an interview.

This interview would determine where she would be for the next 4 years of her life, and she was nervous it wouldn't go well. Obviously. But again, she was also too desperate to fuck it up.

Universities in New York were sophisticated because that was the image of what students should work to achieve. Sophistication.

But that aura was even more concentrated at this particular university. From the brick interior to the pictures of the university in the past hung on the wall. The carpets were the only mediocre thing in the room.

Natasia's eyes scanned around. The secretary was sitting at her seat on the far side of the room, and there were multiple entrances to different hallways, she assumed. But there was no sign of recruiters anywhere.

She stood up and dusted her skirt, walking over to the woman at the front desk. "Hello! I'm Natasia Zervas, I believe I have an interview for 2:30 today?"

The woman pushed her glasses up and tucked a strand of grey-black hair behind her ear. "Health Sciences and Public Policy?"

"Yep!"

"Just take a seat over there and one of the recruiters will come to get you." She pointed to the seats behind Natasia. The 18-year-old smiled softly, and thanked the woman. Before she could grab a seat, a tall man, seemingly in his forties, wearing a dark blue suit stepped at the front, and her breath caught for a moment.

"Natasia Zervas." He looked at the girl, smiled politely. He motioned towards an entrance with his arm, and Natasia followed, looking around. Her tote bag suddenly felt very heavy on her shoulder, and she realized that it was only going to worsen from there.

She entered a small office, and took a seat in front of the desk, opposite to the older man. He pulled out a notepad and a light stack of papers. "So, Natasia Zervas?"

"Yes sir." she smiled flatly. "I'm here for the interview."

"I figured as much," he smiled. "Tell me about yourself. What are some of your hobbies?"

Truth was that she had some in the past. No idea what become of them, the smutty poetry, the romance books, the nostalgic music or the feeling of being loved or living. They continued as fragments in her mind, but at one point in her life, they were something much larger.

"I really love cinematography," Natasia began. She technically wasn't lying, it was just that it had been a long time since she'd last created anything artistic. "I think it's really important that it's well done, especially in tense scenes, otherwise the tension doesn't build and things don't have an impact. I tend to pay a lot of attention to that when I create my own things."

"Why do you like cinematography?"

"We all live in a sort of movie or tv-show, and uh- the struggles we face during it, you know, it's very very real. I think films capture all those emotions, whether they're ugly or sensual or bittersweet. It's a beautiful thing to capture life at its core."

The man nodded. "Anything else?"

No, nothing else, she wanted to be honest and say. I lost all of my interest in all my hobbies a long while ago, and what remains now is nothing, I'm barely able to live and I didn't want to wake up today.

"I work."

"I'm sorry?"

She decided to repeat herself. "I know it's not a real hobby but I honestly have been so caught up with family affairs, or personal things that I never had the resources or the time to nurture that side of myself. But I was able to take photography all four years of high school and I used borowwed equipment to create my own work."

The man nodded again, taking notes with his pen. He jotted away. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"There's also the question about how well you would do if you were to, say, be accepted, into these programs. Health sciences in particular, can be taxing. What do you plan on doing with this degree?"

He continued.

"People enter programs like that because they want to figure themselves out, but what they don't come prepared for is the conflict that forms inside them after that. This program is beyond STEM. It is developed for those who are commited to true change, those are the only graduates that are able to maximum their gains from this faculty. I don't want to offer someone a spot and have them ignore public policy because it is in the social sciences sector. Does that sound like you at all?"

Natasia gulped. "No, sir. I value both fields. I've had first-hand experiences regarding public health issues and how a bad policy can destory livelihoods and how effective policies turn that around. My experiences have definitely limited me to some extent regarding my hobbies and how much time I could dedicate to them."

At this point, she started to relax. Natasia tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she tried to find her next words. "But my experiences have uniquely impacted my perspective on many pressing issues. And, I've overcome adversities before. I can and will do it again. If I sit and do nothing, these experiences will have hindered my future and also the potential futures of other people I could not help because I didn't do myself the justice of reaching far beyond what is in my sight. I know this degree is hard, I know that university is hard, I even know post secondary as a pathway is impossible for many people even now. I'm privileged to be here, and the worst injustice I could do is not give it my best effort."

"That's good," He nodded, as if he knew she was lying. "Very well. I have a few more questions for you regarding your academic history, and then our department will contact you in a few weeks if they find you suitable. They will specify if you are accepted or not in the email. Sounds good?"

"Yes sir."

Will they, now?