Ethan’s Perspective
Date: February 25, 2025
Ethan already knew about the collaboration. Hannah had mentioned it in passing, and at the time, he hadn’t given it much thought.
Now, as he worked, he found himself listening.
Observing Ada in the Data Dungeon
The Machine Learning Research workspace had its own atmosphere—colder, quieter, the hum of running models and cooling fans filling the air. The light was dimmer, the glow of monitors casting sharp contrasts against dark walls.
Priya stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she scanned Ada’s test cases. Omar sat at his desk, one hand on his keyboard, the other absentmindedly twisting the cap of a half-empty orange juice bottle.
Ada, in the middle of them, didn’t waver.
She wasn’t defensive. She wasn’t passive. She just took in their critiques, adjusted, pushed back when necessary.
Ethan’s fingers hovered over his keyboard.
Most juniors struggled with Priya.
Ada didn’t.
That was unexpected.
He had assumed she would follow Priya’s lead, because most juniors did. But watching her now, he realized—if she wasn’t going to blindly follow him, she wouldn’t blindly follow anyone.
His gaze lingered a second longer than necessary before he shook it off and got back to work.
A Conversation He Didn’t Expect
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By mid-afternoon, the scent of burnt coffee drifted through the office, a sign that someone had left the break room machine running too long again.
Ethan found himself standing by Ada’s desk before he fully thought through why.
“How’s the sprint?”
She glanced up, tilting her head slightly, the glow of her screen catching in her glasses. “Good. Fast-paced. Priya already destroyed half my test cases, so that’s fun.”
Ethan exhaled, a quiet huff of amusement. “She does that.”
Ada took a sip of coffee, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re not here just to check in, are you?”
He tilted his head. “You’re adapting quickly.”
She studied him, her expression thoughtful. “You expected me to struggle?”
“No,” he said simply. “I expected you to follow Priya’s lead.”
Her frown deepened. “Why would I do that?”
He hesitated.
The hum of conversations around them blurred. A keyboard clacked somewhere nearby. The faint scent of jasmine from her tea lingered in the air.
She tilted her head again, waiting.
He never walked over to someone’s desk without a reason.
This was new.
He should’ve just ended the conversation and walked away.
Instead, he hesitated longer than he should have.
Then, shaking his head, he said, “Never mind.”
He turned to go.
“Wait,” she called after him.
He glanced back.
“Did I do something wrong?”
For the first time, he didn’t have an answer.
Ethan never spoke without intent, never asked questions he hadn’t already thought through.
But right now?
He wasn’t entirely sure why he had checked in on her in the first place.
His grip tightened briefly around his coffee mug.
Then, after a long pause, he said, “No. You didn’t.”
And he left.
End-of-Day Thoughts
Back at his desk, Ethan scrolled through his inbox, the blue light of his screen casting sharp edges against the dimming office. The usual end-of-day routine—clearing out tickets, reviewing sprint updates—should have been enough to settle his focus.
But his thoughts kept circling back.
Ada.
Not just what she had said. The way she carried herself.
The way she tilted her head slightly when she was thinking, the way she didn’t hesitate, even when Priya tore into her work. The way she didn’t shrink back when challenged.
The quiet confidence she projected—even if she wasn’t entirely sure of herself.
He never paid attention to things like this. Not at work.
And yet.
His gaze flicked toward Ada, still working, completely unaware of the shift in his thoughts.
He rubbed his nose bridge, a slow, a headache forming in his brain, and a rueful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He was in trouble.
