It is Ken's first day. The adrenaline from my heart sends a shiver down my spine. I felt excited and scared at the same time. I knew this is going to be good for me.

I alight at my new home station; one I am going to spend most mornings for the next three years and counting. The station is lightly lit, with elaborate paintings spread across the walls. An isolated art installation hangs in the middle of the station. The escalators produce a familiar and comforting whirring sound as it speeds up commuters towards the upper floors.

The seats are sparse yet empty. Perhaps because it is the early morning and this is an office area. The floor is a granite pink and shining, and squared turquoise boxes decorate them. Various signs gave crucial directions. A few doors near the ends are reserved for staff. Meanwhile, the doors at both ends leading to the tracks are locked shut.

            The station is frozen over. The air conditioners are as noisy as construction going on. As we enter the station we become foodstuff in a freezer, but as we exit them, we are under a glaring relentless sun.

I straighten my jacket and pulled my clothes sleeves. I want to ensure that I give off a good first impression. My shoelaces are neatly tucked and my hair is combed back.

I tap my train card on the perennial terminal with routine swiftness; feeling cool and graceful. I want to maintain this mindset going into my first job in years so that I can get good reviews for fast promotions. I smile to myself; my happiness is infectious.