"Nova, Eric, Mark, Luke and Elena, you five will be working directly with Mr. Erikson."
Felix's voice rings in the air as if someone has just declared my death sentence and has the audacity to say, Just die, You Worthless Peasant!
I blink my eyes and look around at the other four who are supposed to be my teammates... unfortunately.
Each quarter, Laurent & Cie takes on new staff. High competition, and honestly, just a family name won't land you here, where excellence is demanded like a heart demands oxygen.
Eric Regal, the tall guy with ash-brown hair and sky-blue eyes, clean-shaven, with thick black-framed glasses and pale white skin like he's had his blood sucked out. He's just any typical British guy—deep voice, polite—yet you need to know behind that harmless look hides a fucking competitive former hockey champion who had to stop playing due to injury.
Mark Weber, another tall giant, sleek black hair, light brown eyes, stubble maintained and trimmed giving a sharp edge to his jaw. Doesn't smile, doesn't even do short talks... typical German. Not that I complain since he's the easiest one to work with. If he doesn't like you, he's going to be very clear about it, so it saves up time.
Unlike the last dude, Luke Mario. Expensive skin tan, a bit shorter than Eric and Mark, yet probably the most dangerous kind. While Eric's competitive nature and Mark's straightforwardness save you from taking either of them otherwise as your colleague, Luke is different. Charming smile, loud yet deep voice with the best kind of practiced humor. Wavy black hair and hazel-green eyes create a contrast against his warm skin tone. Handsome, but if I let my guards down, he will chew me out and I won't even know.
Lastly, the only girl in the team, though I'm not happy seeing her here. Why? Because just one day is enough for me to know: if any of these four is going to betray me, it's going to be this girl.
Elena Smith. Harvard graduate, shiny glossy blonde hair, rosy plump skin that makes you want to take a bite, shiny large ocean-blue eyes, and a bright smile with the most perfect teeth I have ever seen. From what I've learned while listening to others, she has a record of pushing others under the bus to take the upper position. Men want her attention, women want her charm.
I don't know about the boys, but she is surely going to make her move over this overbearing Deputy VP of ours who had to ruin my plan for a happy, boring corporate life.
Like, why am I put in the team to work under Deputy VP? Excuse me! I am supposed to be working under a senior manager, not a guy who... ugh... isn't even a proper middle manager.
I'm half hearing all the bullshit Felix is rambling once, other than us five, all 25 are flushed out.
My head is already hurting from fever and cough, and now listening to his voice, I feel like I'm going to throw up.
Yet I keep my chin up, spine straight, and pretend I'm listening to the long lecture of docurendum.
I mean, why bro, why?
Can't we just work already?
I bite down my urge to groan with irritation looming in my stomach.
"And Nova,"
Felix's sudden summon of my name makes me look at him. His eyes have this strange mischief from yesterday after I complimented him over his fruit-printed tie, which today is panda-printed, matched with his panda-printed socks.
"Yes, Sir," I smile anyway. Likeable, Nova! Be likeable, like Mila said.
"I have high hopes for you."
And what follows his sentence is silence. Cautious and unwelcoming stares of four people are pinned on me within five seconds.
My lips tremble as I maintain that thin, tight-lipped smile of mine, trying my best not to kick Felix in his balls.
You fucking bastard!
Don't you know in corporate, a newbie like me being suddenly complimented on her very second day not only invites envy of her colleagues but also unwanted attention?
"Nova," Luke smiles at me, charming and warm, yet I don't miss the cold judgment in his eyes asking:
Who the hell is she to get complimented? What is her feed that makes Felix warm up to her?
The other three don't talk, but their curious and judgmental gaze isn't a secret either.
"You think too good of me, Sir. I have just joined yesterday," I keep my voice low and polite. Yeah, I know I am smart. Probably smarter than you, Felix, but I don't need more headache than I already have.
Felix laughs, walking toward me. He just pats my shoulder twice. I gulp.
Not out of discomfort—it's simply how his eyes on me are sharp and discreet despite the smile he wears.
"I will be watching you, Nova. Don't mess up."
His voice surely sounds friendly on the surface, yet the tight squeeze he gives my shoulder as a warning makes me wonder,
What is the problem of this guy?
I look up and smile, "I will give my best."
He nods, leaving my shoulder. It hurts a bit given how my body is weakened by my fever.
"Alright then, get along with Mr. Erikson, everyone. Your future depends on how you all perform under him. Eric, Luke, Elena and Mark, with your three years' experience you are targeting for Senior Associate position. You have high stakes, better not slack around."
Those four nodded like soldiers listening to their commander before being sent into enemy territory.
Power dynamic in this company surely isn't anything less strict than any military bootcamp.
"And Nova,"
I flinch internally at his voice again and smile up, "Yes, Sir."
"Based on your performance under Mr. Erikson, you will be placed under a senior manager."
I'm not surprised. But I pretend to be shocked—a little, just a little.
I lower my head and nod slowly, "Yes, Sir."
My heart trembles, both pressure and anticipation. It's not just working under Deputy VP and gaining our own personal growth, it's basically survival of the fittest.
Because every single member in this team, excluding me, has been with Laurent & Cie more than three years. Young, brilliant, and most importantly, with their unique traits, they make perfect opponents against each other.
And Felix had to put me forward as their common enemy—because why not? If everyone has a common enemy, a newbie who just happened to join yesterday yet gets placed in an important team—she has to be eliminated for everyone's safety.
I keep my chin high, smile at those four who have their own individual reaction.
Felix claps his hands, "Okay then. I leave them in your hand, Mr. Erikson."
Aaron nods, his voice polite and deep, sending shivers down my spine, "Yes, Mr. Davenport. You won't be disappointed."
The room feels more chilly when Aaron talks. Our eyes meet, same unfazed, cold, distant arctic eyes which make me feel conscious and small within my skin.
And just like that, this team of five under this new cold-ass Deputy VP gets moved to another room with exactly six tables, with Aaron's longer table right against the window, which filters in a huge amount of morning sunlight.
My desk happens to be...
Blink...
"Oh, seems like you have gotten the spot right next to Mr. Erikson," Elena's soft pitch doesn't hide her envy at the seat arrangement, because out of five tables systematically arranged inside these four walls, mine has to be the one right on the left side of Aaron's.
"You are favored by the VP," Eric says with a friendly warm tone as he starts arranging his table and cables, which is next to mine. A sharp glint in his eyes and the way he's clenching his laptop a bit too tight for his knuckles to turn white.
I give him an awkward smile—what else can I even do?
"Stop eyeing the table of your juniors," Mark speaks up, his voice full of disinterest and a bit annoyed by the sudden office politics. He is on the opposite side of my table, still a bit far from Aaron's, but his table happens to be bigger than four of ours. He looks up toward us, disgusted by his colleague teaming up on a newbie.
"Get a life, will you?" he says.
Eric and Elena press their lips tight and just start arranging their tables. A breath I didn't realize I was holding for too long leaves my mouth.
Mark and my eyes meet. He looks at me from top to bottom. Not that he is checking me out in the wrong way—from the twitch on the corner of his lips, I can tell he doesn't hold much negativity toward me.
Luke and Aaron aren't here yet. Sounds of printer, metal and cables, humming of the air conditioner, and warm sunlight pouring through the glass wall—everything about this room is suffocating and yet full of opportunities.
I clench my fist tight and look at my white wooden table where my laptop and other essentials rest lazily, carrying the weight of my future.
This isn't something I planned.
I can barely guess the main reason behind making me a common target in a team.
But, I am not someone who gives in to adversity.
Arranging my laptop, pens, files and papers, I keep taking careful looks at my colleagues.
Eric's table has more cables than anyone else. Elena has set up her table like the popular girls in my college used to set their lockers—colorful, feminine, yet better not to underestimate it. Mark has one laptop and another huge monitor set on his table.
Of course, in this team, Mark holds more cards than anyone else.
Son of one of the major shareholders, who also happens to be a close friend of the Chairman, top graduate from MIT, and one of the most potential candidates to replace one of the VPs, Mark carries himself with more confidence than any of us.
I take a sip of ginger tea from my Stanley cup, warm and tingly, warming up my cold sore throat.
This is going to be a handful. But who cares.
I am going to win anyway.