The Alley - Chapter 2

"Oh my god—are you okay?"

Light, who rolled her head towards the voice, her hair covering her face, saw the man who had his hand extended out to her.

"No, I don't think I am," she answered, rather honestly. He quickly squatted down next to her, but to stop him from worrying any further, Light sat up.

"Woah, are you okay?" he said, as she winced from the pain.

"Just some shoulder pain, and some back pain," Light said. She moved a hand over her aching bruises. She didn't think she was bleeding profusely.

"Maybe you should have laid down?" he said. "Do you want me to take you to the hospital? Or a doctor?"

"No, I'm fine. Really."

"You sure?"

"Just give me a moment," Light said. As she did, she had a glimpse of his face. No longer was he familiar, instead he looked utterly perplexed.

She lowered her head to her knees again, staying there for a while, hunched over, sensing the throbbing pain in her shoulder, and her upper-mid back, and hip. Of which would likely remain on her for days, or weeks. But, she seemed to be physiologically alright.

"I'm fine, well physically." The young man was looking over towards the wreckage of the door, well now—doorway. "The door needs a bit of help though," Light said sarcastically, intending to ease his worry. She felt its very wood beneath her.

He laughed boyishly.

The mood changed temporarily, but it eventually dawned on her what she had done, and the brief moment of lightness seized. How could she do such a thing? She would pay for this dearly; she was struggling money-wise as it was. What she'd done was not good.

As Light shifted slightly to her side, the young man spoke up. "Let me help you stand up, at the least." This time, she accepted his hand, with her good arm.

There was pain standing up, all the while she appreciated his support, and eventually she found her two feet. "Hope Estheim, is it?" Light said.

"Yep, that's me—I was here for an interview, but uh... we don't have to do it today," he reasoned.

"No, let me just clean this up. These interviews will be done."

She sure as hell wasn't paying hundreds of dollars now for no good reason at all.


Light pushed against her ergonomic backrest, and the pain in her shoulder came immediately. Though it was manageable, enough for her to at least get this interview done. She wanted to focus on her interviewee, not the pain, nor her front door, of which they had leant on the wall directly behind him.

"So Hope. Please tell me more about yourself… What are you passionate about?" Light asked.

"I love helping people," was his eventual response. "I love the courtrooms—when I was young my grandfather used to always take me... And I always wanted to make some change, even little, for someone who needs it… I want to make the world a better place, which is why I studied to become a lawyer, because I want to fight for people's rights."

"How old are you, Hope?" Light asked, following an inkling of curiosity. "Though you're under no obligation to tell me."

"I'm twenty-five."

"Oh, you look much younger, is all. When did you complete your degree?"

"Three, or four years ago."

"Okay good... Do you have much experience working in a law firm, or in any other law context?"

"No, not recently... but I did some work placement years ago… But I do have a little bit of work experience from the past," the silver-haired man said.

"How about with working with kids?"

Hope gave a surprised, and then perplexed look. "Wah?"

Light, surprised herself, stared at her interviewee for a moment. "You are aware, right, that our business is a litigation service for young people?"

"Oh…" There was a noticeable pause from him.

"Yeah, that's right, it sounds like something right up my alley," he said, showing eyes of mirth and a grin.

"Do you have much experience in it, or at all?"

"Not much, to be honest."

"Well," Light said with a forced smile, "that's what I'm after, honesty." That being said, maybe she should give some of it back.

"You know, I'm after a new intern, Hope, because my non-profit's work has piled up, more than usual. In fact, I need a new intern by Monday morning, tomorrow, to help me finish off a case. Are you willing to come here tomorrow, if you're to be accepted?"

"Yeah, definitely," he said with eagerness.

"Good to hear—"

"So how did it get so busy, just curiously?" he asked out of the blue.

"Uh..." Light shuffled around at that, setting her papers on her lap. "Well, one of them—my lawyers, is on maternity leave, and the other, for whatever reason, decided to start her holiday just in time to go with it."

Her interviewee laughed. Light rather just went over mentally how much of a witch Aranea was, and how much she hated her. Hope's expression soon flickered with remorse. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine, I can manage. But I'm glad that you said that you could make it tomorrow."

"Yeah, I can. Just curiously, is it only you that runs the business?" he asked again, somewhat out of the blue.

Light wondered for a moment why he was moving away from the point of conversation. "Yeah, it's only me," she said, forcing a smile.

"Is there… a lot of work-load? I mean, is there a high work-load?"

She paused again, thinking for a moment how she should reply to that. She decided to humour him.

"The workload is high, no doubt. Not only am I running the business, but I'm also the youth worker here... I guess I'm used to having a high workload, as I used to be a lawyer for a busy firm, and a pro baller on the side."

"Pro baller?" wondered Hope, aloud.

"Professional basketball player." At her curt reply, her interviewee held an awed, open expression, eyes slightly wider.

"So, I'm guessing all of those medals from before, were yours then?" Hope nodded towards the cabinet behind him, opposite the door.

It held her medals, and trophies, all collected from her fairly short-lived career in pro basketball. Some from the domestic leagues, and her most prized accolades came from the internationals. It felt like only a year ago when she had won her last one, when her team won the championship.

"Yeah, they were," Light said with fondness.

"That would explain why you're still in one piece. I mean," he started nervously, "after breaking through your door."

Light chuckled, though she did feel some guilt and embarrassment over it. "Yeah, I keep up a high frame of fitness."

"You must be a quite a famous player, seeing the size of your cabinet."

"I was, I guess. I'm retired now though," Light said.

Her interviewee's green eyes for a moment, looked to want to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. Light assumed he wanted to ask her why she had retired so young.

"You know, Hope. I hit my peak one year, when my team won the continental championship—yes, I used to play for Eden. And in that very same year, I won my first court case as a fledgling attorney, where we fought to preserve justice for this young man for a serious alleged crime. I was still young, and this was my peak year of achievement, and I felt the sky at my feet, there was no limit to what I could achieve." Hope looked to be the captive audience, fully immersed in her speech.

"But I'm retired now, after receiving a career-ending injury." Light looked at her knee, what still held a mysterious pain that never dulled, whenever she stretched leant on it. "And then, I got fired from my old job, all in the same year after that year. Years ago."

"How did you get fired?" Hope asked, voice bereft, but not with much mindfulness.

With the memory, a new emotion came into the springs of Light's mind; anger. "Some guy was trying to get away with a serious crime, lying at the witness stand… And I snapped, I guess. I tried to strangle him, and the bailiff had to pull me away from him, as I dangled from the witness stand."

Hope's expression took a nose-dive, to something akin to shock, and perhaps horror. Maybe she had divulged too much. "I used to have issues with my anger, at times, back then," she admitted.

"I see," said Hope, peach lips spread thinly and smiling.

"Anyway, that's enough about me. You know, I've been talking more about myself, than you have yourself," Light said, with a smirk.

"Alright," she said, grabbing her clipboard and a pen. "Moving on. What are your expectations after completing this internship?" Her eyes turned back to Hope. "What do you see yourself doing in the next year, and also, what are your wage expectations?"

"Well, hopefully, if I do and I'm successful… I'll continue working within this… eh, frame of law, and just do my best every day… As for wage expectations... I guess I don't mind having the minimum wage."

"Is that right?" said Light.

"I just want the experience. And honestly, I'm just stoked to work in the field, even as a volunteer, if any such positions would open up for me... It's field of dreams sort of stuff after all, working as a lawyer, and I want to get my foothold somewhere. If I get accepted for this internship, I'd gladly accept."

Light answered him with silence. She thought about it. What Hope, nor her other candidates would know, was that there were two other criterions coming into these interviews. The candidate must understand that she can only offer the minimum wage after their term, or if their responsibilities increased-earlier, otherwise she couldn't afford them. Nor was that a certainty-their employment; something that was only arbitrarily legal.

The clean-cut, silver-haired man before her, of youthful appearance which belied his age, not only was willing to be a volunteer, but seemed to be a person that was good with people; a people person, that didn't seem to be too judgmental, and whom she could picture working with. So, he ticked both boxes. And work needed to be done tomorrow.

"Well, Hope, congratulations," Light said, wanting to cut the interview short. "I think you're in strong consideration for the position."

"Wah—seriously?" he said, unfurling his crossed leg. He seemed more surprised than elated. It irked her. "Was it my cover letter-that won you over?"

Was he taking this interview seriously? And Light remembered that cover letter, what looked more like a wedding invitation with its meaningless fanciful borders... Should she mention it was because her internship didn't guarantee work less there was a minimum wage; but she decided against it. These were desperate times.

The pinkette simply shook her head.


"Okay, thank you. Bye."

Light hung up her phone, what was always remarkably bulky and smooth in her hands. She walked back from her office into the main one, and placed the phone on its cradle by the entry. She had cancelled all of her following interviews. And just then, she'd finally gotten off the phone with her realtor.

She felt sore; her back ached unusually, and she felt tired, and still embarrassed about the whole door fiasco.

Though, she wandered over towards her cabinet, which her new employee had pointed out earlier. She had a look around her achievements and other memorabilia, seeing her forlorn expression on the reflection of the glass. Opening the case at head height, grimacing with the pain from lifting her arm, she reached out towards something.

She pulled out a photo-frame, and it held a photo of her old team, after they had won the championship. They looked so happy, and Light couldn't help but smile in turn. Not for the victory itself, but the joy they had all felt, and was shared between them. What was their unique connection with one another, and what will likely never be experienced again.

In one of the photos, there was Snow, the man currently dating her sister, whom she hated so much at such a time, and still did... But she knew she was being unreasonable. Light trusted her sister's judgement enough to know, Snow was telling the truth, at the least, which helped his case a bit; but she'd dwell on that later...

There was their coach, Amodar, off to the side and smiling knowingly at the camera. Whom all the girls got along with well, and who had told them all once that he'd loved them. He always gave her such good advice, not just about basketball, but regarding life. He's the one after all, that pushed her to explore youth advocacy, telling her to follow her heart rather than follow whatever she was seemingly good at...

Then there was her old best friend, Fang, a beer in one hand and the peace-sign on the other, either intentionally or unintentionally winking at the camera. She always was the life of the party, having such a charming, and outgoing personality. Though she also was a fierce leader on court; they could always depend on her when needed. Light was very glad to call her a friend, but she hadn't spoken to her in ages, mostly because she couldn't get a hold of her. They lived in different time zones, and Fang was still heavily involved in basketball...

How have they gotten so far apart? All of them.

Light knew that the good times don't last forever, but hers, and her potential was cut short… At least with her talents now, what she was doing was good for the community, and there was meaning in what she did. She was proud of her achievements thus far, even the littlest of them.

But, Light always felt she wasn't cut off the same cloth as the other entrepreneurs she'd met, and known, as she often struggled just to keep her business alive. And at times like these, on her lonesome, she often found herself wondering... What could it be that she was still missing?