Page 24 of The TV Show Rival

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she cursed under her breath. Her interview wasn’t for another hour, but the other nine participants seemed to be there already, in the waiting area.

The friendly receptionist, a woman with a nametag that read Angela in a cheerful script, flashed a smile. Her short, blonde hair was neatly styled in a bob that framed her face, which seemed permanently set in a look of warm welcome. Her outfit was the picture of professional courtesy—a crisp black blazer hung over a knee-length skirt in a shade of teal that perfectly matched the company logo pinned to her lapel.

She pointed towards the only empty spot left in the waiting room, and Jamie’s smile faltered slightly as she noticed the one detail that could potentially disrupt her calm.

The only empty spot left was right next to Jess Thompson.

There she was; the very picture of nonchalance. While everyone else was sporting interview-ready power suits or crisp blouses, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her casuals that screamed Weekend Hike. Not to mention the oversized headphones practically welded to her ears, blocking out the world.

Did she seriously think this was a gym session? Jamie narrowed her eyes at her. She couldn’t miss Jamie’s skeptical stare, but she pretended not to notice, a barely-there smirk playing on her lips. Did she…enjoy this little forced proximity?

Jess continued to bob her head to the music, as Jamie plopped herself down with a sigh. But the bass pulsing from Jess’ headphones was a constant, unwelcome presence.

Ugh. The urge to rip off her headphones and launch into a lecture about interview etiquette was strong. But professionalism won out.

Focus, Jamie. Maintain a healthy distance from this walking negativity.

But the music, a relentless electronic beat, kept worming its way into Jamie’s concentration. A silent battle of wills ensued.

Jamie glared at Jess pointedly, hoping she’d get the hint. Jess, in turn, pretended to be utterly oblivious, her gaze fixed on her phone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jess glanced up, with a devilish smirk. The silence between them was thick with unspoken animosity like two storm clouds.

They were both well aware of the online battle that brought them here, and the unspoken subtext hung heavy: Can you believe we both ended up here?

The message was clear; this interview waiting room had just become a battleground of passive aggression.

Jamie looked away and decided to channel her inner yogi, with a book she pulled out from her bag.

One by one, the hopeful trainers disappeared behind the frosted glass doors of the interview room, only to emerge moments later with varying expressions on their faces. Finally, the receptionist called Jamie Nguyen’s name.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie rose from the chair, her gaze flicking briefly towards Jess, who offered a sardonic salute with two fingers. Ignoring the urge to roll her eyes, Jamie straightened her clothes and headed towards the glass doors leading to the interview room.

The room was bright and furnished with a polished wooden table and three comfortable chairs.

The interview room offered a sense of neutral professionalism. Bright lighting ensured everyone could see each other clearly, while a polished wooden table and three comfortable chairs provided a functional space for conversation. It was uncluttered and professional, designed to put interviewees at ease without offering any distractions.

Two men and a woman sat behind the table, looking professional in their suits.

“Jamie Nguyen?” the woman in the center asked, a warm smile softening her features. “Please, come in and have a seat.”

She was a vision of professional elegance. Her sharp, shoulder-length blonde bob framed a face that seemed both youthful and authoritative.

A well-tailored black suit hugged her curves, the crisp white blouse beneath the blazer hinting at a hint of personality peeking through the polished exterior. A swipe of classic red lipstick added a touch of vibrancy, completing the picture of a woman who meant business but with a disarming warmth.

Jamie nodded, taking the offered chair in the middle. “Thank you for having me.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” the man on the right said. “I’m Wills, and these are my colleagues, Sophia and Terry. We’re the producers of Ultimate Body Battle.”

The man was elegantly dressed in his tailored charcoal suit. His black hair was neatly cropped, not a strand out of place. A crisp white shirt peeked out from under the vest, and a colorful silk tie added a touch of personality to his otherwise conservative attire.

“Alright, Ms. Nguyen, tell us about your experience as a yoga instructor. How long have you been teaching?” Wills asked.

“I’ve been teaching yoga for eight years now, but my passion for it goes back much further than that. Yoga helped me reconnect with my body and mind after a difficult time in my life, and I’m dedicated to sharing its transformative power with others.”

“Can you elaborate on that a bit? What sets your approach to yoga apart?” Sophia asked.

“For me, yoga isn’t just about physical postures. It’s about creating a sense of balance and well-being in all aspects of life. I believe in tailoring my approach to each individual, helping them find their own inner strength and resilience.”

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