เรื่องสั้นและนิยายในฉากMale POV Workplace

My girlfriend, Eleanor Reed, tells me that her ex's father and grandfather have sadly passed away, so out of concern for her ex's mental health, she wants to be there for him. Meanwhile, her father, who's still bedridden at the hospital, becomes my responsibility. She tells me to take this opportunity to get on his good side so that I can win his approval sooner. After hearing that, I find myself admiring her relationship with her ex. Therefore, I decide to be her ex as well.

At midnight, the ER receives a pregnant patient with an extremely pale face, and she's convulsing violently at the same time. I lift her shirt on the spot so that I can diagnose her symptoms better. But my wife, Selena Carson, who also works as the head nurse, suddenly berates me angrily. "Do you have any idea that what you're doing is sexual harassment? Can't you spare the patient her pride? "Don't use your treatment as an excuse! I refuse to believe that there aren't any female doctors in the ER at all!" The patient's family members streamed the whole thing live. Soon, everyone was blasting me on the Internet. The hospital forces me to apologize to the pregnant patient. But I decide to tender my resignation the very next day. After all, the patient's disease has a frighteningly high chance of getting misdiagnosed, not to mention it's incredibly difficult to cure. In fact, no one but I can cure her once and for all.

My hands were completely full with a massive stack of files, so I dropped a quick message in the team group chat: [Anyone down to pick up lunch for me? I’ll cover a coffee for your trouble.] Brandon Cole, the brand-new intern, saw it and immediately chimed in to offer a hand. When he handed me the takeout container, he casually let out a heavy sigh and looked down at his phone. "Man, I was just scrolling Instagram and saw Starbucks came out with this new iced strawberry lemonade. It’s like six bucks, but I’ve never tried it." My finger froze over the ordering app on my screen. My entire lunch, including the delivery fee, was about eleven dollars. Still, looking at the eager, expectant puppy-dog look on Brandon’s face, I didn't say a word. I quietly added the six-dollar Starbucks drink to my order and checked out. Brandon’s face instantly lit up. "You're the best, man," he beamed, leaning in. "Seriously, hit me up whenever you need anything else." The next morning, I stepped into the office, my bag barely off my shoulder and my badge not even scanned yet. Brandon was already standing at my desk. He slammed a takeout container down in front of me with a proud smile. "Hey, Jay! I went ahead and got you lunch today." He patted the lid of the container like he'd done me a massive favor. "Chipotle bowl from down the street, twelve bucks. The delivery fee is the same as yesterday, though. I'll take a vanilla latte from Starbucks." He didn't even pause to let me react. "Light ice, blonde espresso, no foam, in a Venti size. It comes out to seven fifty. Thanks, man!"

A Code Blue in the emergency department means a patient's heart has stopped and every pair of hands in the building is wanted. The president cut his own report off mid-sentence and sent me down to the resuscitation. The charge nurse was already prepping my gown at a run, saving every second she could find. And a first-year resident, three months on the job, was standing in front of the procedure-room doors with a printout from the pharmacy in his hand. He put it to me in front of everyone. "Dr. Hale, sixty ampoules of anesthetic went out of your department in March. Did you take them out and sell them? "The head of cardiothoracic surgery, doing something that filthy? Sixteen years in this hospital. Tell all of us how much you've taken in kickbacks." He said it with real conviction. And the eyes coming at me from up and down the corridor were full of doubt. But I didn't have the time to fight with him. The window on a heart attack like that one is ninety minutes. Fifteen of them were already gone.

I had barely finished defending my thesis before HR at Westbrook Holdings called to accuse me of lying about my internship experience. They told me the company was rescinding my offer for its management trainee program, effective immediately. I didn't understand where the accusation came from until my roommate, George Owens, walked in and started lecturing me about lying on my resume. He acted concerned at first, warning me that this could ruin my career. Once we were alone, he dropped the act and bragged that the management trainee position was his now. I couldn't help laughing. George was only a month into his internship. He never saw me at work, so he assumed I used connections and a fake resume to land a job I didn't deserve. What he didn't know was that I founded Westbrook Holdings during my sophomore year of college. I started it with my own savings, just to see if I could get a business off the ground. I had no reason to steal anyone's spot at a company I owned.

On the first day of my internship, I discover that there's another intern who has the exact same name as I do. During a trip to the toilet, I overhear some colleagues gossiping. "Did you hear? One of the interns from this batch is actually the chairman's son! I think his name is… Michael Lane." "But there are two Michael Lanes among the interns this time! Which one is it?" "Shh! I heard that he's humble and wants to keep a low profile because he wants to experience life as one of us commoners." "Then, it has to be the one from your team, the one in the white shirt and the Simple-branded canvas bag—you know, the brand that sells plain and simple-looking items that are actually super expensive. Our Michael is wearing a Rolex on his first day of work! It's as though he's afraid others won't know that he's rich. I bet it's all just an act!" "I agree. As if someone truly rich would be flaunting their wealth like that!" I wait till their voices have faded away before returning to my desk and glancing at my Simple canvas bag. At that moment, my phone vibrates with a message from my mother. "How's your first day of work going? Are you getting along well with your colleagues?" I reply, "It's okay, but there seems to be a misunderstanding going on." "What misunderstanding?" I think it over for a bit, but don't answer. After all, it's not like I can tell her, "Mom, you told me to keep a low profile, but because of that, the entire company now thinks that I'm the chairman's son." But I'm actually not!

When I end up oversleeping by one minute during my usual lunch-hour nap, my colleague, Michael Jones, reports me for my "major attendance infraction". Without any hesitation, our boss, Patrick Larkin, cancels my promotion that had been announced three months ago. He says, "Rules are necessary to maintain order. Every employee must abide by company policy." I don't argue or try to explain myself. However, from that day onward, I stop taking naps during my lunch hour. Instead, I use that time to study the employee handbook. Michael mocks me. "What's the point in pretending to be such a diligent employee now? No matter how many times you read the employee handbook, you won't be getting a raise for it." I simply smile to myself. Eight days later, chaos breaks out throughout the entire office. Over 100 employees crowd into the hallway outside the HR department, each one looking pretty frantic. Michael's expression doesn't look too good, either. Patrick storms up to me, glaring fiercely as he confronts me. "What the hell did you do?" I slowly sip my coffee before replying, "I'm just complying with your orders and helping you enforce company policy."

My boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party. Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage. "Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table." The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl. After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful." The room exploded with laughter. I didn't say a word. I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me. They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on. I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them. I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'

The day the clients I'd referred to my brother Dennis Bevan's building-materials plant passed the million-dollar mark in purchases, I, Toby Bevan, picked out two bottles of Macallan to celebrate, the same as always. But the moment I stepped through the door, my brother's son, Jasper Bevan, burst out laughing. "Well, look who it is. The freeloader's back! "Two bottles of booze and he thinks he's earned his cut. Talk about getting something for nothing." I looked at the four relatives in the room. Not one of them spoke up for me. They all kept their heads down, as if they agreed with him. For years, I'd been sending clients their way in exchange for a ten percent commission. It was written into our contracts, and it hadn't changed in all that time. "Is that how you all feel?" I asked, sweeping my gaze over them. Dennis gave an awkward laugh. "Toby, sure, back when the plant was starting out, we relied on you for clients. But business has finally taken off, and you've been collecting a cut for nothing all these years. So, you know..." My second sister, Lucy Bevan, chimed in. "We aren't short on business partners anymore. Honestly, these days, you're the one relying on us." In other words, they were saying I didn't deserve my cut. Fine. If that was how they felt, I'd pull every last client.

When the kiss cam swept across the stands at the baseball stadium Warren Doyle, a married investor in the league, had his arms around his PR director and was kissing her. The two of them went up on the jumbotron, and the crowd erupted in hoots and cheers. Warren stormed into the camera bay and demanded I hand over my camera. I told him the camera pointed wherever the control room told it to. He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly let go and let me leave. I thought that was the end of it. The next day, audio from the crew channel shot to the top of the news feeds, with nothing left in it but two ambiguous lines from me. "Camera locked on row seven. Keep rolling. Don't cut." Overnight I became the shameless camera operator who'd filmed them on purpose. I was suspended from my job, my father's food cart was trashed, and Warren sued me for a million dollars. But he didn't know that the recording he was using to convict me could only ever convict him.

On my first day at work, I received a carpool notice. [I'm three weeks pregnant and the company is quite far from my home.] [After verification, your car exceeds 400,000 dollars and has been on the road for less than a year. It meets my vehicle requirements.] [From now on, you will be responsible for sending me to and from work every day. You mustn't be late.] Looking at the message, I laughed out of sheer anger. I usually had a dedicated driver for my outings. After starting work, I had my family buy this inconspicuous car to keep things low-key. I replied directly: [No thanks!] Unexpectedly, the next day, Xenia Salter exploited her authority over the attendance records and marked me as arriving late and leaving early and deducted my salary. Since she was so shameless, she should not blame me for what was to come.

I was always sleepy when I was working. If I were working an eight-hour shift, I would sleep the entire shift away. Initially, I thought that I was too tired. My boss only fined me because I was the top sales performer. It was not until I got caught dozing off for the 38th time last month that I realized something was wrong. I scheduled a medical appointment. However, on the way to the hospital, I died from a car accident. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day the new male colleague first joined us. In the past, I had also started to suffer from lethargy on the same day. I suspected he had something to do with my symptoms. Hence, I started to stalk him in secret. As expected, during lunch time, I caught him and my girlfriend conspiring against me. “Once I plant this sleepy bug on Nick, you can transfer your sleepiness to him.” Justin Smith wrapped his arm around my girlfriend Heather Reid’s waist. He said in a fawning tone, “Heather, you’re the best. Once Nick gets fired for oversleeping, I can take his position!” I sneered when I saw them acting intimately. They did not know that I had returned to the past!

I spent eight years at the company, working my way up from a green rookie to the most expensive expert on the entire East Coast. Then the company gave me an AI assistant. I thought it was a perk. It wrote my weekly reports, answered my emails, and organized my data. I loved using it. Three months later, HR called me in with a termination agreement. "The AI assistant has already distilled you into an AI clone. The company doesn't need you anymore." So that assistant hadn't been helping me. It had been replacing me. I signed and left. Eight years of my life, traded for a cardboard box and two words: "Not needed." Then my old boss called, his voice shaking as he begged. "Meridian's system crashed! The AI gave us seventeen fixes, and every one was wrong. They'll pull the contract if it's not fixed tonight. That's $450 million! Please come back. I'm begging you!" I gripped the phone and heard myself laugh. "It learned every document, every log, every action I ever took. But it'll never learn the one thing that's mine alone: my brain. "When all the data points to A, I have the nerve to pick B. "As for you? Go ahead and keep picking A."

The project I had poured my heart and soul into earned the company over a hundred million in profit, yet the credit was handed to the vice president's nephew. I stood in a corner, the stack of source code documents trembling in my hands, nearly crushed by my grip. That nephew—who couldn't even get Hello World to compile—was now on stage, smiling brightly as he accepted the award. The vice president came over and draped an arm around my shoulder like we were old friends. "You're just an outsourced worker," he said casually. "These honors wouldn't mean anything to you anyway. Jason is new. He's got limitless potential. From now on, you'll be responsible for mentoring him properly." Only then did I realize that decades of struggle had been nothing more than laying out a red carpet for someone else's glory. That very night, while reviewing the project's code repository, I discovered a massive flaw—one serious enough to bring the entire system crashing down within three days.

Before the holidays, I visit an authorized car dealership to conduct an inspection. Having noticed that the flowers at the entrance aren't arranged properly, I decide to move them. Suddenly, a man clad in a suit and wears a manager's lapel tosses me a broom haughtily. "You must be the new intern, yeah? Today, the CEO will be conducting an inspection here. You'd better clean every inch of this place meticulously. Even the washrooms must be spick and span!" I don't bother moving an inch. My brows are tangled in a frown as I sink in deep thought. I never told anyone about my arrival today. How did this manager find out about my schedule, to begin with? Upon realizing that I'm not moving, the man hurls a piece of dirty rag at my face immediately. "I'll have you know that I'm your superior here! You can forget about using the Gen-Z workplace techniques on me! "If you slack off one more time, I'll fire you right away!" After graduating from college, I've just started learning the ropes in my family's company for half a year before my dad decides to assign me to a branch company. He even issues me an ultimatum. I'll only get to go home whenever I produce some actual results. Here I am, worried about how I'm going to exert my authority and prove myself to my dad, when the perfect catalyst just comes knocking on my door.

In this world, there are more ways to deal with a problem than the problem itself. That applies just as well to cheating men. Rich men, especially, will go to absurd lengths just to have more women in their lives. There's no trick too low, no scheme too shameless. Take my boss, for example. He handed over his stunning mistress to me. Honestly, I suspected he couldn't perform in bed, because she came into my bedroom night after night.

My fiancée of seven years, Scarlett Blair, sits on my boss' lap, peeling grapes for him. At the annual company gala, he stands on stage and beams as he deliberately awards me the title of "Most Selfless Employee". The giant screen behind him doesn't display my accomplishments. Instead, it shows surveillance footage of my fiancée in a skimpy outfit and black stockings, giving him a private work report in his office. It's taken down almost immediately and cited as a technical glitch, but the laughter that erupts throughout the hall is deafening enough to bring the roof down. In an instant, all eyes are on me, yet I smile like a blind man and walk up to the stage to accept the award. "James, a man has to be open-minded if he wants to get ahead in life. Don't you agree?" Zachary Trent pats my cheek, his eyes brimming with mockery. I nod obsequiously. "You're absolutely right, Mr. Trent. Thank you for the advice." The guests think I'm a coward, that I'm willing to swallow my pride and sacrifice every ounce of my dignity for a paltry eight grand a month. Little do they know, my phone's practically vibrating itself to pieces. Once I slip into the deserted emergency stairwell, I wipe the smile off my face and dial the phone number registered to the prestigious family compound in the capital. The call connects almost instantaneously, and a woman's lazy yet aloof voice comes through. "What's the matter? Is my husband showing off your wife in front of the entire company again?"

After my beautiful boss, Violet York, starts a new relationship, I somehow end up becoming the other man. Her brand-new boyfriend, Cody Moore, shows up in a sweatshirt and a trendy layered haircut. He kneels in front of me and cries, "You're Vi's secretary, right? Please give her back to me. We're the ones who are destined for each other." I jump back in shock. Yes, I am Violet's secretary. But more importantly, I'm a national award-winning top scholar with both looks and brains. I have the company's core tech in my hands! And most importantly of all, there is absolutely nothing going on between Violet and me. I can swear with my life!

At the annual company meeting, my wife, Rosalie Smith, claims that I've never made any contributions to the company, so she demands that I give up my position as the chief engineer and transfer all of my research findings to her first love, Harry West. Enraged by Rosalie's shamelessness, I quit my job on the spot before throwing the divorce agreement at Harry's face. "Working in this day and time is very difficult, you know! How about I just be more generous and let you take over my position as the CEO's husband instead?" For a moment, everyone swaps looks with each other, thinking that I'm merely jealous of Harry. But no one knows that I'm the one with the core technology of the company. No one can replicate it nor steal it from me. Without my core tech, the company's products are reduced to a bunch of useless codes. As for Rosalie, she will face massive debts and the crisis of her company going into bankruptcy.

An overpass in Winfeld that's still under construction ends up collapsing, leading to the deaths of many. Family members of the victims are up in arms, demanding that the person in charge pay the price for the incident. As the quality assurance inspector, I'm brought to court. However, I am just an intern. The real perpetrators are out clinking glasses, celebrating a clean getaway and the fact that they have a new scapegoat. Out of nowhere, the court introduces a new trial system that involves the extraction of memories directly from one's mind. In the middle of this major incident, a terrifying truth emerges. Everything goes all the way back to my university days…