She walked into the Creative Sparks Agency just as the clock on the wall ticked past 9:00 AM. The door jangled behind her, startling a fly that had been lazily circling the flickering light above. She stepped into the office, pulling her hoodie tighter against the morning chill. Her face was unremarkable – the kind you’d pass on the street without a second thought. But there was something about the way she moved, unhurried and sure-footed, that made people glance twice.
Inside, the office looked like a relic from a different era. Faded posters of campaigns long forgotten hung crookedly on peeling wallpaper. A coffee machine sputtered in the corner, leaking brown liquid onto a stack of outdated marketing textbooks. Desks were cluttered with papers, sticky notes, and empty soda cans. It smelled faintly of burnt toast and mildew.
At the centre of it all sat a group huddled around a battered conference table, staring at laptops and muttering under their breath. They didn’t notice her at first. She wandered closer, curious, until she found herself standing over a printout someone had left abandoned on the edge of the table. Leaning down, she scanned the page, her brow furrowing deeper with each line.
“Leverage Quantum Synergy for Maximum Consumer Engagement? – Harnessing Predictive Algorithms to Optimize Your Brand’s Hyper-Personalized Journey.”
Her lips moved silently as she read, then stopped. She straightened up, holding the paper out in front of her like it might bite.
“What does any of this even mean?” she asked aloud.
The room froze. Heads snapped toward her, eyes wide with shock – or maybe horror. For several seconds, no one said anything. Then, slowly, a man sitting closest to her reached out and plucked the paper from her hand. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat nervously.
“It’s… uh…” he began, trailing off when he realized he couldn’t explain it.
Another voice cut through the silence. “Oh, great. Fresh meat.”
She turned to see a middle-aged woman leaning back in her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her expression was sharp, almost predatory, though her tired eyes gave away how exhausted she really was. This was Cindy, known for her ability to wrangle impossible client demands while maintaining an air of barely contained disdain for everything around her.
“Fresh meat?” She tilted her head quizzically, not offended but genuinely confused. “Am I supposed to be lunch or something?”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Cindy blinked, caught off guard by the response. Before she could retort, a gruff voice boomed from across the room. “Ignore her. She’s just bitter because last week’s campaign flopped harder than a pancake without syrup.”
Everyone turned to look at Alfred, the boss. He was old and gnarled, his suit perpetually wrinkled, his tie askew. His hair – what little remained – was combed over in a futile attempt to hide his bald spot. There was a sadness etched into his features, the kind that came from watching an industry he loved crumble under the weight of progress. Once upon a time, Alfred had been a creative force to be reckoned with, crafting campaigns that resonated with real people. Now, he spent most of his days staring blankly at AI-generated reports, wondering where it all went wrong.
Alfred stood and shuffled toward her, extending a shaky hand. “You must be our new hire,” he said, forcing a smile. “Welcome to Creative Sparks. I’m Alfred, the guy who’s technically in charge here.”
She shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you. What exactly am I doing here?”
“Well…” Alfred hesitated, glancing at the others for support. When none came, he sighed. “We’ll get to that. First, let me introduce you to the team.”
He gestured vaguely around the room. “This is Cindy, our Client Engagement Executive. Don’t take anything she says personally – she doesn’t mean half of it.”
Cindy rolled her eyes but offered a curt nod.
“And this,” Alfred continued, pointing to the man who’d taken the paper from her earlier, “is Tony. He’s our IT specialist. Keeps the servers running – and by ‘servers,’ I mean the ancient piece of junk in the closet that crashes every other day.”
Tony grinned proudly. “Actually, sir, it’s not just any junk. It’s a custom-built neural network optimized for generating hyper-targeted ad copy. With the right inputs, it can revolutionize marketing as we know it!”
She squinted. “Sounds complicated.”
“It is!” Tony beamed. “But don’t worry – you won’t have to touch it. That’s my job.”
Finally, Alfred gestured to the empty desk nearest the window. “And that’s yours. We’re still setting up your login credentials for the system, so for now, why don’t you grab a seat and familiarize yourself with… well, whatever you can find lying around.”
She nodded, unfazed, and headed to her desk. As she settled in, flipping idly through a stack of papers labelled “Campaign Ideas (DO NOT DELETE)” , the rest of the team returned to their work – or at least pretended to. Every so often, someone would steal a glance at her, trying to figure out what to make of this strange newcomer who seemed completely unbothered by the chaos surrounding her.
For her part, she didn’t notice – or if she did, she didn’t care. She hummed softly to herself, scribbling doodles in the margins of the papers. Occasionally, she’d pause, look up, and ask questions like, “Why do we say ‘synergy’ instead of just saying ‘working together’?” or “Who decided hashtags needed numbers in them?”
Each question earned another round of stunned silence, followed by muttered explanations that only made things more confusing. But she didn’t seem discouraged. If anything, she seemed delighted, as if she’d stumbled into a puzzle waiting to be solved.
