Always Has Been

Evelyn sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The hum of the air conditioner filled the room, steady and impersonal. She had just wrapped up yet another interview for a personal assistant position. It felt like the hundredth this month. They all blended together now-smiling faces, polite rejections, hopeful openings that always closed just before she could step through.

Her reflection in the dark screen of her laptop didn't match the disappointment she felt. With her round face framed elegantly by her long, black hair that cascades down her back in soft waves, Evelyn often looked younger than her 21 years. Her most captivating feature is her striking brown eyes-deep, expressive, and impossible to look away from, often catching the light in a way that makes them seem almost golden. Her fair skin still had that soft glow of youth, and her average height let her disappear into most crowds. She was used to going unnoticed, used to being the one behind the scenes. But lately, even those behind-the-scenes roles seemed out of reach.

The phone buzzed beside her, dragging her back to the present. She picked it up lazily, expecting a sarcastic message from Sky-her best friend and part-time life coach.

"Hey, Sky," Evelyn answered with a sigh, not bothering to check the screen.

"Hello, Evelyn?" The voice on the other end was crisp and professional-definitely not Sky.

She straightened up instantly, her tone shifting. "Yes, this is Evelyn."

"This is Laura from Elite Assistance Agency. We've reviewed your application and interview notes, and I'm pleased to inform you that we'd like to offer you the position of personal assistant for a high-profile client, effective immediately. If you're available to start tomorrow, we can finalize the paperwork and introduce you to the client in person."

There was a pause.

"Wait-what? I got the job?" Her voice cracked with disbelief before she could rein it in.

"Yes," Laura said, smiling through the line. "We'll send over the address and details. You'll be working closely with a young, fast-rising footballer. His family was involved in your selection and has already signed off on your appointment."

Evelyn blinked. Her mouth felt dry.

"I... thank you. Yes. Yes, I'm absolutely available."

"Perfect. We'll be in touch shortly. Congratulations, Evelyn-and welcome aboard."

As the call ended, she stared at her phone, stunned. For the first time in weeks, a door had opened. And it wasn't just any door-it was an elite agency, a young athlete on the rise, and a job that could change everything.

---

The next day, Evelyn stood nervously in front of a sleek, modern home that screamed quiet wealth. Her outfit was neat and polished-professional but not stiff. She clutched the strap of her bag a little tighter as she rang the bell.

The door opened almost instantly.

"You must be Evelyn," said a woman in her mid-thirties, her features sharp but softened by a warm smile. "I'm Vivienne Thorne. Come in, please."

"Thank you," Evelyn replied, shaking her hand. Vivienne's grip was firm but welcoming.

Inside, the house was open and tasteful. Vivienne gave her a brief tour, then led her toward a quiet room at the back where a boy sat at a desk, hunched over a notebook. He had short, tight curls and was wearing an oversized hoodie, one hand absently spinning a pen as he studied. He looked up as they entered, his eyes sharp and curious.

"Jobe, this is Evelyn-your personal assistant."

The boy's face lit up with a small, lopsided grin. "Hey," he said, rising halfway from his chair. "Nice to meet you, Evelyn."

There was a warmth in his voice, casual but genuine.

"Nice to meet you too," she said, a little surprised by how grounded he seemed.

He glanced at his mum, then back at Evelyn. "You're the one who's supposed to keep me from forgetting my kit and missing interviews, yeah?"

"Something like that," she replied with a soft laugh.

Jobe grinned wider. "Good. I need someone like that. I'm all over the place."

Evelyn relaxed slightly. She had expected someone aloof or spoiled. But Jobe seemed... normal. Down-to-earth, even.

They sat down and went over the basics: schedules, obligations, routines. His schoolwork, media appearances, training sessions. Her job would be to keep him on track-without making it all feel like a prison.

Over the following weeks, Evelyn fell into the role like she was made for it. She was organized, dependable, and always two steps ahead. And Jobe, to her surprise, made it easy. He was polite, a little cheeky, but respectful. He started calling her "Boss" half-jokingly when she reminded him of tasks. He texted her if he was running late, even sent memes when he thought she needed cheering up.

She learned quickly that Jobe wasn't your average 14 year old teenager. He was focused and fiercely passionate about football. But more than that, he had a calm self-awareness that most adults struggled to find. He wasn't trying to impress anyone. He already knew who he was becoming-and he was growing into it, day by day.