Chapter 1
The moment the quarterly performance review results dropped, I was at my desk, debugging code.
An @everyone notification popped up in the group chat: [Employee of the Quarter: Lindsay Shaw.]
My KPI was the highest in the department, 47%. Hers? Just 89%. My customer satisfaction score was 4.98, hers was only 4.21. How did Lindsay get it over me?
But none of that mattered.
When it comes to these awards, it was all about the person, not their performance.
After the meeting, Lindsay caught up to me and said gently, "Julia, I know this award should've been yours... How about I treat you to some bubble tea? Please don't be mad, okay?"
My boss came over to my desk and said, "Her mom's sick, and she really needs that bonus. You're in a better position than she is, can't you be a little more understanding?"
It wasn't until later that I realized, it was never about the bonus. What she really needed was my performance, so she could use it as a favor for herself.
If working your ass off means nothing compared to schmoozing, and if grinding away isn't as valuable as buttering people up, then maybe it's time for a change.
I'm moving on to somewhere that actually values real work.
What they never expected was just how well a straight shooter like me, someone who just gets the job done, could live once I stopped playing by their rules.
This time, I refused to be part of their charade.
"Julia, don't let the whole Employee of the Quarter thing get to you," Ethan said.
Ethan, the department manager, pushed open the office door, holding the freshly signed announcement in his hand.
I kept typing, lines of code racing across my screen.
"Mr. Cole, I want to know the selection criteria," I said, looking him straight in the eye.
With a heavy sigh, Ethan sat down across from me, his voice earnest.
"It's not just about performance, we look at everything. Lindsay's always been really involved around here, and she gets along with everyone," Ethan said.
"So being 'active' is enough to cover a 40% gap in KPI?" I challenged.
I pushed the printed performance comparison chart toward him.
"My project's payment rate is the best in the whole team, and Lindsay got two complaints last month. Mr. Cole, that's just not right," I said.
Ethan's face darkened, like I'd just called out the secret everyone was pretending didn't exist.
"Julia, you can't just judge everything by the numbers. This is a team, not your own private lab," Ethan said.
He paused, his voice softened, carrying that elder's pressure.
"You don't know what Lindsay's dealing with. Her mom was just diagnosed with a serious illness, and she's really counting on that bonus to help out in this emergency," Ethan said.
"You're local, your family's well-off, and you're single, you don't have nearly as much to worry about," he added.
"Just think of it as helping out a colleague, be the bigger person, okay?" Ethan said.
I laughed in disbelief, so angry my fingers shook as I hit enter.
"So, all my hard work is just meant to be a handout for her?" I shot back.
Ethan stood up and gave my shoulder a heavy-handed pat.
"Don't be so harsh. Next quarter, I'll make sure you're at the top of the list," he said.
"But you need to learn how to blend in with the team. Stop treating everything like it's just work," he added.
As he reached the door, he turned back with one last reminder.
"When Lindsay comes to talk to you, just go easy on her. Don't put her on the spot," he said.
The moment the office door clicked shut, Lindsay's bubbly voice floated in from the hallway.
"Thanks, everyone! Drinks are on me tonight, no one's left out!" she called out.
I stared at the glaring red error message on my screen, my chest weighed down like someone had stuffed it full of soggy cotton.
Sure enough, just a few minutes later, Lindsay slid open the partition at my desk.
She was holding a cup of extra-rich cheese tea, her smile soft and sweet, her voice gentle as cotton candy.
"Julia, still busy? I ordered the full-sugar one just for you," she said.
She set the drink down next to my hand, reaching as if to hook her arm around mine.
"I know this award should've been yours. I even talked to Mr. Cole about it, maybe he could've given it to you instead," Lindsay said softly.
"But he kept saying I was the one who should represent the team, and honestly, I had no say in it. Julia, please don't be mad at me, okay?" she added.
I pulled away from her touch, staring at the cup of milk tea with a frosty look.
"Change it back? Fine, go write the request now, I'll walk with you to Mr. Cole's office," I said.
Lindsay's smile stiffened, her eyes quickly welling up, her voice quivering, on the verge of tears.
"Julia, why are you being like this... I just wanted to make peace between us," Lindsay said, her voice trembling.
The people around us all turned to look, throwing me judgmental side-eyes.
"Julia, come on, give it a rest. Lindsay meant well," someone muttered.
"Seriously, it's just one award, do you really have to be so cold to her?" another coworker piped up.
Lindsay brushed away her tears, her voice catching as she spoke. "No, really, it's all my fault. I never should've gotten this award..."
"If you really think you shouldn't have gotten it, then why not just give the bonus to Julia? She's the one who actually earned it," Matt, the only newbie bold enough to speak up, cut in.
The whole room froze.
Lindsay's tears streamed down her cheeks, her fingers gripping the hem of her shirt so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"I... my mom's in the hospital, and we still haven't got enough for her medical bills. I really need this money," she said.
She was crying pitifully, like her world was falling apart, as if I was some heartless debt collector making her life harder.
The coworkers who'd just spoken up immediately crowded around her.
"Lindsay, don't cry. Everyone knows you're the most devoted daughter in the department," one of them said.
"Some people are just heartless, all they care about is money, not a shred of compassion," another chimed in.
I sat at my desk, logged into the company portal, and pulled up the detailed evaluation sheet.
In the Manager's subjective rating section, Lindsay scored a perfect 10, while I got a big fat zero.
The reason? "Not a team player, too blunt in communication."
I closed the webpage, grabbed the extra-sweet bubble tea, and dumped it in the trash without a second thought.
"Lindsay, drop the act. Don't think I forgot, you played the 'my mom's sick' card to get time off for a Santa Lucia vacation six months ago," I said, my voice icy.
Lindsay's sobs stopped cold, her eyes went wide with panic.
"That's not true! Are you spying on me?" she snapped.
"No need to spy. You just forgot to block me from your feed that day, so your location popped right up," I said.
I stood up, sweeping my gaze over all these self-proclaimed justice warriors.
"Since you're all so full of compassion, why don't you each pitch in five hundred bucks? That should cover her bonus nicely, don't you think?" I said, my tone icy.