From Invisible to Invincible

The glass doors of the interview building reflected my lonely shadow. Failed the third interview, my resume crumpled into a fist. Back at school, stepping out of the elevator, stifled giggles came from behind. I instinctively touched my back and my fingertips brushed against a note. The moment I tore it off, the bold black word "Loser" stabbed my eyes like a needle. In the bottom right corner of the note was a messy "Leslie" character. Raymond Leslie. No one else but him would humiliate me in such a childish and cruel way. I turned and rushed into the lab next door, where he was leaning against the table, messing with his phone. Cindy Jarvis stood beside him, holding a cup of hot coffee. "Raymond, did you do this?" I slammed the note down on the table. He glanced up, a careless smirk tugging at his lips. "Just a joke." "A joke?" I clenched my fists. "You call insulting me a joke?" Cindy stepped forward and stood right in front of Raymond. "Lambert, don't be so serious," she said, her tone clearly biased, "Raymond just thought you were too nervous during the interview and wanted to make you relax." Make me relax? By calling me a "loser"? I looked at Cindy—her defense of him was like a thorn stuck straight in my chest. We'd been together two years, and she was always like this—brushing off Raymond's mistakes like they were nothing. "Cindy," I took a deep breath, my voice worn but firm, "Let's break up." She froze, the smile on her face disappearing in an instant. "Lambert, seriously? Just for a note?" "It's not just the note," I said, looking her straight in the eye, "it's your constant enabling and his endless torment. I've had enough." Raymond scoffed, "That's so great! Cindy was always miserable sticking with you anyway." I didn't even glance at them again, just turned and walked out of the laboratory. The hallway lights were harsh and pale, just like how I felt at that moment.