Novel & Cerita Nothing You Do Goes Unnoticed

A message from an unknown number lit up the screen: "I saw everything. Don’t think this will stay hidden."

My deskmate, Elaine Jenkins, was the kind of girl who was born with a sharp tongue. She loved nothing more than embarrassing me in front of everyone. When I showed up in a brand-new white shirt, she sneered, "Look at the country boy who finally made it to the city. Are you really that worried people will not realize how hopelessly tacky your taste is?" When I switched to contact lenses, she laughed. "Those eyes look like a dead fish's. Taking off your glasses is not going to magically turn you into a handsome guy." Then I won a prize in the math competition. She just rolled her eyes and said, "Please. Everyone knows he stays up all night grinding through problem sets. He practically worke

“Actually, I came to apologize.” He looked up, confused. “Apologise? For what?” “For the announcement. I should’ve told you before going public. I know you've probably been drowning in DMs, rejecting fakes, answering calls—” He blinked. “What DMs?” I frowned. “What do you mean what DMs? The announcement. The show. Didn't anyone message?” He turned his monitor toward me. “Not a single one. No DMs. No emails. No hashtag spikes. It’s...weirdly quiet, actually.”

“When people don’t realize what they’re saying.” A screen lights up across the room. I didn’t notice it before. Now I do. Clips. Fragments. Conversations. Not full recordings. Just pieces. Me. Lydia. Moments I didn’t think mattered. A question here. A hesitation there. A look that lasted a second too long. “You pay attention to her,” he says. I don’t answer. “You always did.” “That doesn’t mean anything.” “It means everything.” The screen shifts. Lydia again. This time more recent.

Dana gripped her phone so hard her fingers went numb, her hand trembling uncontrollably. She suddenly remembered a month earlier, when Gary had handed her a document to sign, saying it was an insurance policy. Kelly had been smashing things in the next room, shrieking for Dana to come over. Dana had signed it without even giving it another look. The line behind her started to grumble. "If you can't do it, move. Stop wasting everybody's time!" "What a moron. She got dumped and didn't even know. Serves her right..." Dana did not know how she made it out of the building.

“We were rooting for it. All of us. The whole centre.” I looked at her. “You did not know,” she said. Not a question. “No,” I said. “I did not know.” “Of course you did not,” she said. Not unkindly. More like she had expected this and it confirmed something. “You were too busy managing everything to notice people paying attention. You always moved through here like you were slightly invisible on purpose and it worked on most people and did not work at all on the people who were actually watching.” I thought about all the mornings I had come in and sat at that desk and told myself I was invisible. Carrying everything quietly and showing people a clean surface and thinking that was working.

Someone I might never meet. What could he do? Nothing. And maybe that was enough. I needed only to be heard. To exist in someone’s awareness. To know I was not alone. One tap. Just one. And it would be gone. I pressed send. Delivered. The screen blinked. Three dots. Sixty seconds. He was typing. My heart raced. They disappeared. Returned. Vanished. I waited. Nothing. I stared at the empty conversation. My message untouched. Had I said too much?

"Tsk, look at you. Dressed in rags and carrying that filthy sack. The bank isn't a place for beggars! Don't even think about coming to me for service. You reek. I only deal with high-value clients." The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts. When I blinked, the first thing I saw was my best friend, Madison Doyle, pinching her nose with a look of utter disgust as she turned away. Outside the glass partition stood an older couple, their faces etched with worry. Despite the humiliation, they held onto their money bag tightly, refusing to leave.

No structure. No role. Just him. Stripped of everything else. — “You don’t look different,” she said. “I’m not.” “That’s not true.” A pause. “You lost something.” “Yes.” “And it doesn’t affect you.” “It does.” Silence. Because it didn’t show. Not the way it might for someone else. — Ariana leaned back slightly. “It’s quiet now.” “Yes.” “No hearings. No emails. No pressure.” A pause. “And it feels… wrong.”

L A N A The drive feels like it's never going to end. I watch the city pass me by, as if it's forgetting who I am, or simply doesn't care that I'm still here. Everything goes on like nothing happened, making me feel more insignificant than ever. Hours ago, I was preparing for my engagement party, and the only thing I had to worry about was decorations, my outfit, and making sure that everything was going according to plan. But that all went to shit.