starlightnovelsclub
Stories
18
Chapters
1,015
Words
1.5 M
Comments
238
Reading
5 d, 3 h
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August 12, 2020. The summer heat was blazing. At exactly noon that day, everyone around the world who wore a micro smart-brain received an email. The sender was signed as “The Judge” and the subject read “Doomsday Countdown.” Once the email was opened, a twenty-four-hour countdown clock appeared. Its projection hovered constantly beside the wearer of the smart-brain, the virtual clock ticking down second by second. Very quickly, people discovered that this email—seemingly nothing more than a…-
16.2 K •
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The temperature inside had risen to thirty-eight degrees Celsius. The time shown on the decorative wall clock was 1:20 p.m. It had been exactly one hour since Gu Yuhuan answered the first question correctly and the teasing male voice announced that the “Eighty-One Deadly Questions” app was downloading. After answering the first question correctly, Gu Yuhuan’s tightly strung nerves relaxed a little. The intense mental exertion had already made her feel hungry, and with the air conditioner no longer…
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The rest of Wednesday passed with all the urgency of a melted clock. Risa stared at her screen, cursor blinking patiently in an email draft she had started twenty minutes ago and had not progressed past the phrase: Hi Team, She considered ending the email there and sending it as a statement piece. A minimalist cry for help. A modern art installation. Instead, she sighed and kept typing. Her brain, however, had clocked out emotionally several hours ago. This was what… the second week?…-
17.5 K •
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Risa did what any emotionally stable, professional adult would do after being verbally body-slammed by her manager over skincare trivia. She went to lunch with Evelyn and Sophia and trauma-dumped between bites of overpriced salad. The three of them sat at their usual spot—a small café two blocks from the office that specialized in grain bowls, artisanal beverages, and employees quietly reconsidering their life choices. “So,” Sophia said, stirring her iced coffee like she was preparing to receive…
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Risa clocked out Friday evening with the emotional urgency of someone escaping a collapsing building. Her mouse clicked the log-out button with more force than strictly necessary. The screen faded to the Shizz Company default wallpaper—an aggressively cheerful image of a woman holding hair serum while smiling like she had never experienced an existential crisis in her entire life. Risa shut her laptop. Closed it. Pushed it slightly farther away from her like it might reopen itself and demand she…
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For approximately forty-eight hours after The Great Product Knowledge Ceasefire, Risa allowed herself a dangerous thought: Maybe things would calm down now. Maybe the universe had exhausted its weekly quota of nonsense. Maybe— At 11:07 a.m. on Thursday, Brad sent a calendar invite titled: Team Sync – Important Update Risa stared at it. Nothing good in corporate life had ever followed the phrase “Important Update.” She joined the meeting with mild dread and a half-finished protein bar. Brad…
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17.5 K •
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They say that life gets better. It doesn't. Life was just an upward treadmill. If you run too slowly, you'll tumble down. If you run just fast enough, you'll remain in place. As for running fast and hard? Who would do that when the only reward is to continue running fast and hard?? Risa Johnson had finally survived four years of college, 7 cups of c0offee a day and only a few traumatic group projects that she had to carry. Naturally, she thought this meant adulthood would be kinder. It was…
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HR, it turned out, was a liar. Not a malicious liar. Not even a particularly creative one. Just the kind of liar who said, “They’re ready for you now!” and then immediately abandoned Risa in the lobby like an emotionally fragile houseplant. Amanda’s heels clicked away toward the elevators. Risa followed for exactly three steps before Amanda turned and said, “Oh—actually, they’re running just a bit behind. Why don’t you have a seat, and Brad will come get you?” A bit behind. Risa…
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Risa told her family the interview went well in the most restrained way possible. “It was… fine,” she said, placing her bag down and kicking off her shoes. Her mother looked up immediately. “Fine fine, or you’re-being-humble fine?” Risa shrugged. “They said I did well on the technical part.” Her dad folded his newspaper. “Did they say what’s next?” “Another call,” Risa said. “With the CEO.” Both of her parents froze. “The CEO?” her mom repeated. “Yes,” Risa…
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By mid-morning, Risa had learned one crucial thing: Customer Service was a scam. Not in a fraud way. More in a false advertising way. She sat beside Evelyn and Sophia as they pulled up spreadsheets, order portals, shared drives, and folders nested so deeply they might’ve been archaeological sites. “So,” Evelyn said, clicking through three tabs at once, “we handle twelve distributors each.” Risa blinked. “There are… twenty-four distributors?” “Yes,” Sophia said cheerfully, like…
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17.5 K •
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By day two, Risa realized something important. Day one had not been overwhelming because it was new. Day two was overwhelming because it was real. Evelyn and Sophia walked her through the same processes again, this time with the expectation that Risa’s brain had retained something overnight. “So first thing,” Evelyn said, sipping her coffee, “BOL Tracker.” Risa nodded. “BOL Tracker.” “Has to go out by 9:30 a.m.,” Sophia added. “To the warehouse,” Evelyn said. “Every…
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There are few phrases more dangerous than: “Oh—transcoding.” Risa learned this quickly. Customer Service alone was a full eight-hour job. Not an exaggeration. Not a metaphor. A literal, clock-eating, email-generating, SAP-loading eight hours. Transcoding? Transcoding was its own beast. One file took anywhere from one to three hours, depending on how cooperative Excel felt that day. Multiply that by twelve distributors, sprinkle in Customer Service emergencies, and top it off with Power BI…
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Risa went home that night feeling hollow in a very specific way. The kind of hollow where you’re not crying, not angry—just quietly exhausted, like your soul had been placed on airplane mode. At dinner, she told her family what her manager had said. Her mom frowned. “Well… then you just have to work harder.” Her dad nodded. “If your manager thinks you’re not doing enough, do more.” Simple. Her brother chimed in, unhelpfully. “Yeah, that’s just the bare minimum.” Risa stared at…
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From that point on, work stopped feeling like a challenge and started feeling like a beatdown. In her next 1:1, Rachel didn’t waste time. “You need to be doing more,” she said. Risa nodded, because that seemed to be the correct response to everything now. “You’re not really doing two people’s jobs,” Rachel continued. “Evelyn and Sophia both handle more than you.” Risa kept her face neutral. “Well,” Rachel added, “they each have ten distributors. You only have four.” Risa…
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By the time the next 1:1 rolled around, Risa already knew what was coming. She had learned—painfully—that Rachel possessed a memory like an elephant. A vengeful elephant. Nothing was ever truly resolved; it was merely archived and brought back up every single meeting, like a recurring nightmare but in business casual. So when Rachel joined the meeting, Risa braced herself. Sure enough. “You should be familiar with the basic terms at the company by now,” Rachel said, without preamble. There it…
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The first of the next month arrived quietly, like a threat disguised as a date on the calendar. Risa stared at it. Two months. She had only been here for two months. It felt like two years. Possibly three. Time worked differently at Shizz Company—each Excel file aged you approximately five business days. This month, she took on all US distributors. All nineteen of them. Fred, meanwhile, handled the five small Canadian files. Risa smiled politely and said nothing, but inside her head she was…
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