Tell Leanna some lies

"Christopher, you are _really late." _She pulls you aside, away from the rest of the pod. Her voice is a lilting whisper. "I don't want to write you up, but when I log you in...well, they're going to write you up from a higher level of management whether I do or not." She looks so concerned about your welfare. You've wanted to just sit her up on the desk and eat her pussy like some kind of excavating machine for a couple months now. It's probably about time you did something about that.

"It's fine." You lie. Confidently, in the way that having supernatural power apparently makes you confident. You HAVE noticed yourself becoming more assertive. "I've been reassigned to a different project. I just wanted to say...you know, thanks for being such a great boss. I wish I could spend more time with you, but I've been headhunted, and it's a huge opportunity."

She blushes at the tone of your voice when you say that you wish you could spend more time with her. You realize that actually every word of what you just said was the truth. Holy shit you're good.

"Well, I'm so glad to hear that. I always thought you had so much potential, just getting wasted in here. But when you only get jobs that aren't challenging, that are menial, really, it's so hard to advance yourself, you know? It's so hard to get ahead when they just won't promote any of us." There's anxiety in her voice. This is a dead-end job for her, too. Happy for you, but it'd be better if you were happy for her.

She's right, of course. Your company doesn't promote from within. Everybody at this level gets hired off the street. Everybody in management gets brought in from outside. There's some bullshit reason for that in a policy binder somewhere, but really you think it's about loyalty. Nobody up at the top has any loyalty to the people at the bottom, this way. The management doesn't even really know your names. You're like completely different classes of being, with no permeability and no concern. "Your job isn't menial. This is important work. We found out those blenders could shock people, and we found all those bugs in that medical software, but they've just...they've just convinced us our jobs are pointless so they don't have to pay us. It's bullshit. You deserve better, and we all do."

There's a long, heavy moment of silence, and then you say "Thanks," again, and then you leave.