Tell Orca? Julian stared at the message.

Julian almost never talked about himself.

Other people could meet someone once and immediately start talking about their dad, their mom, their dog, what happened this morning, what they ate for lunch.

Julian rarely spoke like that.

His life felt flat in his own mouth.

Too easy to judge.

Too easy to expose.

But tonight felt awful.

Maybe it was the screen between them.

Maybe it was the fact Orca wasn't really real.

Julian opened the DM box anyway.

Typed.

Deleted.

Typed again.

A whole wall of text.

Then erased every word.

No.

He couldn't tell Orca.

Someone like Orca would never understand him.

Julian exited the app and started scrolling through Moments aimlessly instead.

A birthday video popped up halfway down the feed.

His younger brother.

Three people around a cake. Smiling. Laughing.

Warm yellow lighting.

Perfect little family.

Julian stared at it for several seconds before remembering—

Right.

Today was Jason's birthday.

He sent over a red packet.

Happy 12th birthday, kid :)

A while later:

Jason: Thanks, bro.

Julian typed again.

Did the gift arrive?

Jason: But the e-reader can't play videos or games.

Jason: Next year can you buy me an iPad instead?

Julian paused.

His first instinct was no.

Too distracting.

Bad for studying.

Kids his age shouldn't spend all day gaming.

Then another thought surfaced quietly—

His parents used to say the exact same things to him.

Always reasonable.

Always correct.

Always no.

Julian swallowed.

Julian: Next year.

Julian: But you need to read more and stop staying on your phone all day.

Jason: I knowwww

Jason: Thanks bro!!

Compared to Julian, Jason's grades were terrible.

Sixth grade already hanging around barely-passing territory.

Julian called his mom afterward and mentioned the e-reader. Told her to push Jason toward actual books instead of mobile games.

"What e-reader?"

Julian explained again.

"Oh. That thing." She finally remembered. "He didn't like it. Sold it online already."

His mother kept talking.

"Kids have too many toys these days anyway. Better to sell it and save the money."

A pause.

"Your aunt bought him that huge birthday cake too. He only ate two bites."

"You would've never wasted food like that when you were little."

Julian lowered his eyes.

No.

He wouldn't have.

He never had birthday cakes growing up.

No toys either.

He knew his parents worked hard. Never asked for anything.

By the time he could afford cakes and gifts himself—

he'd already aged out of wanting them.

But one thing still didn't make sense to him.

The family had struggled his entire childhood.

His college living expenses came from internships and scholarships.

So why—

the second he grew up—

everything suddenly became easier?

Julian barely slept that night.

One moment he dreamed Jason had thrown away the gift.

The next—

Samuel looked at him across a conference table and said calmly:

"Julian, you're fired."

He woke up dizzy.

Washed up.

Opened the bathroom door—

and nearly stopped short.

His roommate stood outside.

Watching him.

Several seconds passed before the guy finally spoke.

"Morning."

Julian had three roommates total.

The guy next door rented the master bedroom with a private bathroom. Normally he never used the shared one outside.

Julian immediately remembered the day he'd been filming videos and caught the guy lingering outside his door.

His shoulders tightened.

He turned and went straight back into his room.

Locked the door.

Changed clothes quietly.

Waited.

Only left after checking the hallway twice.

The subway was packed as usual.

Julian missed two trains before finally squeezing himself inside.

One hand gripping the overhead strap.

Earbuds in.

Morning finance news playing softly.

The closer they got to Midtown, the worse the crowd became.

Bodies packed shoulder-to-shoulder.

By the time his stop arrived, Julian practically had to force his way toward the doors.

"Sorry— excuse me— getting off—"

He finally stumbled onto the platform—

then felt something slip loose beside his ear.

His stomach dropped.

No.

No no no—

One earbud gone.

Julian spun around just as the subway doors slammed shut.

The train disappeared with his earbud still inside.

He stood there staring after it for almost a full minute.

Then the next train arrived.

Crowds surged forward again.

Julian silently removed the remaining earbud and followed everyone upstairs.

Monday morning.

Nine o'clock.

Coworkers chatted over coffee, swapping weekend stories.

Julian dropped into his chair and decided his life was cursed.

"Julian."

Asher leaned over the divider.

"The exchange updated the IPO review guidelines. Synapse AI's prospectus is still using the old version, right? Have someone update it."

Julian heard him.

Didn't move.

Didn't answer.

A hand landed lightly on his shoulder.

Julian blinked back to himself.

Asher bent slightly beside him, green eyes full of concern.

"You okay?"

Julian looked up at him.

Honestly—

how did Asher still have energy left to care about people?

Julian appreciated the kindness.

He just didn't want kindness right now.

Wanted darkness.

Silence.

Rotting quietly in some corner alone.

"I'm fine," he said eventually.

Forced a smile.

"Sorry. Zoned out a little. What were you saying?"

Asher repeated himself.

Julian nodded.

Opened the prospectus.

Started updating the sections one by one.

Asher had said "have someone do it."

But Julian was the lowest-ranking person on the project team.

Who exactly was he supposed to assign work to?

So he did it himself.

The task wasn't hard.

Just tedious.

Page after page.

Line after line.

Julian scrolled down twice—

Blue screen.

His laptop froze completely.

Again.

Julian exhaled sharply.

Closed extra windows.

Restarted programs.

Nothing.

Held down the power button.

The screen came back covered in glitchy code.

Dead.

His brain blanked out for a second.

Then a voice landed above him.

"Julian. My office."

Julian's breathing caught.

Samuel was here.

Right.

Of course.

Slowly, Julian stood.

Another wave of dizziness hit him halfway upright.

The laptop.

The files.

Could any of it still be saved?

"Julian."

Samuel sat behind the desk watching him.

"Are you listening?"

"No."

The word slipped out before Julian could stop it.

He braced for impact.

Samuel only looked at him once and continued calmly.

"About the Lanting Distillery deal. Any thoughts?"

"No."

"Did you analyze which listing path fits them best?"

"Don't know."

Samuel tapped the desk lightly.

"Julian. Watch your attitude."

Something snapped.

"What attitude?"

Julian heard his own voice rising.

Couldn't stop it.

"Are you unhappy with my attitude—"

his chest tightened hard—

"or are you just unhappy with me?"

Silence.

Samuel frowned slightly.

"You're angry."

Not even a question.

Then:

"Why?"

That made it worse.

Way worse.

Julian stared at him.

"You seriously don't know?"

"I've been asking around," Julian shot back.

"Other management trainees don't do any of this."

His voice shook harder with every word.

"But you keep throwing impossible work at me."

"Managing projects. Client dinners. Presentations."

"You made me pitch a live deal when I told you I couldn't do it—"

"I said I wasn't ready—"

His throat closed abruptly.

Julian stopped.

Heat slammed into his eyes.

Shit.

Not now.

Not here.

He covered his face immediately.

Tears soaked into his palm almost instantly.

Fuck.

Not this again.

Every single time.

Why did he always cry during arguments?

Julian wiped viciously at his face and looked back up.

Eyes red.

Still furious.

"I messed up the deal," he said hoarsely.

"You pushed me into it anyway."

For the first time since joining Apex Capital, Julian stopped trying to look obedient.

Stopped trying to look grateful.

The anger finally surfaced.

Sharp.

Messy.

Real.

Samuel watched him quietly for a long moment.

Then:

"If you truly think you can't do it," he said calmly, "you can leave."

The words hit like cold water.

There it was.

Julian knew it.

Samuel wanted him gone.

His chest twisted violently.

Julian turned and walked straight out of the office without another word.

"Julian—"

Asher nearly collided with him outside, carrying two boxes.

"There you are."

He held them out.

"Just got approval for your equipment."

Julian blinked.

MacBook Pro.

Newest model.

And an iPad Pro beside it.

He stared blankly for several seconds.

"Why… am I getting these?"

"Asher scratched the back of his neck."

"Samuel mentioned it last week."

A beat.

"I forgot to process it. That's on me."

Last week.

Julian froze.

His laptop had lagged during revisions that day.

Ten seconds.

Maybe fifteen.

Samuel noticed.

Asher kept explaining.

"The laptop's company-issued. Usually only full-time employees get one, but Samuel heard your current machine was struggling."

He lifted the iPad slightly.

"This one comes from Samuel's assistant budget. Easier for meetings and remote edits."

Julian looked down at the boxes again.

Vision blurring.

He blinked once.

A tear slipped free anyway.

"Hey— hey, don't cry."

Asher panicked immediately.

"I was only late a few days."

"It's not that."

Julian shook his head quickly.

Not Asher.

Not really.

He opened his mouth to explain.

Nothing came out except another broken sound.

Julian didn't even fully understand why he was crying.

The laptop had only frozen for a few seconds.

Nobody had ever cared before.

Nobody had ever noticed before.

Except Samuel.