Etai and Jinn

The work chat froze. Your selfie in a tight T-shirt is posted publicly, your biceps gleaming in the glare, and underneath it, the line "Colleagues, work." You swallow. A friend sent you a private message with a smiley face of rolling eyes: "What's this? Did you send me your reports, idiot?" And sure enough, instead of muscles, she has columns of revenue.

You try to write something, but your fingers feel like cotton wool. Etai, who usually churns out perfect messages, suddenly blurts out: "Did you really misspell it?..." He's clearly shocked himself. And then Genie comes to life—the silence of the work chat explodes with his words: "User... Etai... I'm waiting for you both. Quickly."

The screen goes dark. You look at your friend: she's already sent a voicemail, but you're afraid to click it. One thought runs through your head: "I can't undo it—it's been read." Then another: "How can I explain to Djinn that I didn't try to flex before the office?" A third: "And now Etai thinks I'm an idiot." You close your eyes, open your work chat—there are already two unread notifications. Djinn has set the reaction to "Urgent."

You frantically delete the message, but it's too late—screenshots are already flying through corporate channels. All that's left to do is get up and go to Genie. Your friend finishes you off in a private message: "Send me this later, when you get fired. I'll save it." And adds fire.

The chat is silent. You walk down the hallway, feeling like every step is a "turbulence zone."