The Applicant

He had filled out the online form twice because the first one timed out. Some pop-up told him his password wasn’t strong enough, so he’d added an exclamation point, like shouting would make a difference.

The job wasn’t much, just a “content coordinator” position for a mid-sized marketing firm. But he needed something, anything to keep his landlord off his back.

He’d done the same routine everyone else did: polished résumé, rehearsed answers, polite little paragraph about “thriving in fast-paced environments.” Then the email came, “Thank you for applying, but we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.”

A polite bullet to the head.

He sat in front of his laptop, staring at the rejection for a while. The cursor blinked in an empty Facebook post window, taunting him.

He started typing, “Applied for the position, but didn’t even get an interview. Maybe I should’ve said I love ‘team synergy’ and free pizza Fridays.”

It was bitter, sarcastic, the kind of thing he’d delete, but not that day. Instead, he hit enter.

By morning, he had over five hundred likes, a thousand shares, and comments from strangers congratulating him for “speaking truth to corporate hypocrisy.”

Someone had even made a meme out of his words. He wasn’t sure whether to be proud or terrified.

Five days later, his phone buzzed. The caller ID said Unknown Number.

“This is Marissa from HR,” a smooth voice said. “We’d like to invite you in for an interview.”

He didn’t ask why. He just said yes.

The office was newer than he’d imagined. Everything was glass and steel and smiles.

They handed him a guest badge like it meant something. A young woman with all too-white teeth led him to a small conference room.

He could feel their eyes on him through the glass, curious, a little nervous. After twenty minutes of waiting, two people walked in.

A man with a too-tight tie and a woman with a notebook that looked untouched.

“Thanks for coming in,” the man said, shaking his hand too firmly. “We, uh, saw your post.”

The woman smiled like a robot powering on. “It generated quite a bit of attention for our company.”

He nodded, not sure what they wanted him to say.

The man continued, “Frankly, we weren’t going to call you. But given the visibility this situation has gotten…” He trailed off, glancing at the woman. “Well, here we are.”

The woman leaned forward. “Unfortunately, since your post went viral, we’ve received several hundred new applicants for the same role. It’s changed our hiring process.”

He frowned. “So, I’m not getting an interview?”

They exchanged a look, the kind of wordless communication that always ends badly for the person outside the circle.

“Well,” she said softly, “we thought it best to meet in person and clarify that we won’t be moving forward.”

He laughed, not the kind you share, but the kind that leaks out when something finally snaps.

“So you called me here to reject me again?”

The man folded his hands. “We didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.”

He stood up. The chair screeched against the tile like a protest.

“You got your publicity,” he said. “I guess I got mine.”

On the way out, the receptionist smiled at him without knowing why. He smiled back, maybe for the first time in weeks. Outside, the afternoon was thick and gray, the kind of sky that makes everything look like an old photograph.

By the time he got home, his phone was buzzing again. There were messages, notifications, and interview requests from journalists.

The story was spreading: “Man Denied Job Twice — Goes Viral.”

He looked at the screen for a while, then shut it off. It was all just noise, he thought, the world talking to itself.