The badge on the desk

I put it beside the sealed drawer tonight, the one I do not open unless I have to. It is just a badge. It is not just a badge. Manager Han called me Park Seo-yeon in front of everyone like I was a case file, and I stood there and I smiled the lobby smile and I said yes ma'am I will be more careful, and the whole time I was calculating how fast I could get to Mr. Kang's booth without it looking like running. I got the password. I photographed the confirmation text and I saved it with the lobby clip from before and I do not know yet what I am building but I know it has something to do with the rust-coloured smear on the briefing room floor that no one else noticed but me.

The woman with the ponytail. 2104 Lead. She laughed behind her hand. I ranked her third on my list of people I would like to see lose a heel on wet marble, right below Manager Han and above the concierge who told me my Korean accent was cute last spring. She got my role. She is wearing my role on her chest like a crown and I am the one being told to pour the VIP. Pour him, Miss Park. I did not pour him. I have not poured anyone except myself in this job, and even that I do badly.

Nine days. Mr. Kang has been written up twice for me. I do not know if that makes me feel powerful or sick. Both. Probably both.