Chapter 2

The next morning, the moment I stepped into the office, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Everyone was sneaking glances back and forth between me and Chloe.

Chloe was slumped at her desk, dabbing her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

"Chloe, what's wrong?" someone asked gently, leaning over her cubicle.

Sniffling loudly, Chloe pointed a trembling finger at her screen.

"The color calibration on this monitor is totally off."

"I stayed up all night color-grading my mockups, and when I ran a test print this morning, the colors were completely ruined!"

"My eyes hurt so bad I can barely keep them open. I can't work like this."

"If I ruin this project, Richard is gonna tear me apart."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, making her look utterly pathetic.

Right on cue, the glass door to the design director's office swung open.

Richard stepped out, coffee mug in hand, scowling with deep irritation.

"Claire. In my office. Now."

His booming voice echoed across the quiet floor.

A cold sneer flashed inside my head. I dropped my bag on my desk and walked in.

Richard slammed himself into his leather executive chair, glaring at me like I owed him my life.

"Do you seriously think that just because you've been here longer, the whole world revolves around you?"

"Who said that ultra-wide 4K color-accurate monitor belongs exclusively to you? Did you pay for it out of your own pocket?"

I met his glare with a calm, steady look.

"Director, IT specifically assigned that rig to me when I was hired."

"I requested that setup because my projects require high-end, color-critical rendering."

Richard slammed his coffee mug onto the wooden desk with a loud thud.

"That was then!"

"Chloe's project has a hard client deadline today, and she's crying her eyes out!"

"What's the big deal if you let her use it?"

"Where's your sense of teamwork? Do you have any empathy for your colleagues?"

"Stop being so selfish and petty. It's embarrassing to watch."

I drew a slow, deliberate breath.

"All my active project files and rendering caches are stored on that machine."

"I'm also on a tight schedule. Switching desks now puts all my deliverables at risk."

"Your schedule?"

Richard let out a mocking laugh.

"Like your little side designs even matter compared to this account?"

"If Chloe drops the ball on this pitch, our entire department loses our quarterly bonuses!"

"Are you trying to drag the whole team down with you?"

"Cut the crap. Clear your stuff off that desk and swap with Chloe right now."

"That's an order. If you don't like it, pack your bags and get out."

With that, he waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away an annoying fly.

I stood my ground, my hands clenching into tight fists inside my coat pockets.

In my previous life, this was the exact moment I was pressured into giving up my station.

And in this life?

I was still going to move.

Because I needed her to sit right down into the trap I had laid out for her.

"Understood. I'll move."

I turned on my heel and walked out.

Chloe rushed over immediately, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Claire, I'm so, so sorry!"

"I really didn't want this! Richard forced me to switch!"

"My screen was just hurting my eyes so badly..."

Apologies spilled from her lips, but her feet were already planting themselves right next to my setup.

With a completely blank face, I began packing up my things.

I ejected my external hard drives, unplugged my drawing tablet, and stacked my design reference books into a box.

"Hurry it up!"

Richard barked from his open doorway.

"Stop dragging your feet. Chloe needs that station now!"

Around the room, not a single coworker dared to breathe a word.

Only a few gloating, malicious smirks followed me.

Brenda leaned over to whisper loud enough for people to hear.

"Acting so high and mighty, but she still has to jump when the boss says jump."

Ignoring her completely, I hoisted my storage box into my arms and stood straight.

"Where am I moving?"

I asked coldly.

Richard poked his head out of his office door, casually pointing toward the deepest corner of the floor.

"Over there. The spare rig still boots up."

I carried my things across the entire office.

That corner was shoved right against the breakroom and the industrial printer.

Towering filing cabinets blocked out every ray of natural light.

Broken office chairs and cardboard boxes were piled everywhere, filling the air with a damp, musty stench.

Sitting on the wobbly desk was an ancient desktop tower that looked like a relic from a decade ago.

Its screen was faded and yellowed, and the plastic casing had completely chipped away.

This was the "spare rig."

I set my box down and pulled back the squeaky chair.

Just then, a bright, bubbly voice floated over from behind.

"Wow, the color accuracy on this screen is insane!"

"Claire, thank you so much! You totally saved my life!"

I looked back over my shoulder.

Chloe had already made herself completely comfortable in my old ergonomic chair.

Catching my gaze, she turned around and beamed a sweet, angelic smile.

Behind that innocent grin lay smug, unfiltered triumph.

I calmly turned back around and took my seat in the dim, neglected corner.