#workplace tf

Subject: REVISED Character Concept Proposal - Project Siren Lead: Astra Date: 2026-05-04 From: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected]) To: Jean-Luc Laurent, Project Siren Director ([email protected]), Margaret Ashton, Lead Writer ([email protected]), Tom Krantz, Art Director ([email protected]), Harold Emerson, Marketing Director ([email protected])

Hey team,

Following our discussion, I’ve explored some revised concepts for Astra. I’ve attempted to incorporate the feedback regarding her visual presence and appeal while still maintaining clear elements of her functionality, field skills and survivor identity.

Attached are sketches and notes for “Astra Version 1.1”.

Key Revisions:

Silhouette: Adjusted proportions slightly for a more athletic, defined look. Shoulders are a bit more slender, waist more tapered.

Clothing: While still practical, the fit is closer to the body to emphasize her physique. We’ve explored variations where the durable jacket is optional or appears later in the game, starting with a more form-fitting top (tank top variant included). Pants remain sturdy but are less baggy. Boots are still practical but with a slightly more pronounced heel for posture.

Face: Refined facial features to be more conventionally symmetrical and striking. Eyes are slightly larger, lips fuller. We can imply minimal makeup that's smudged or worn, fitting the environment but enhancing features.

Hair: Options now include a slightly less practical, but more visually dynamic ponytail or braid that allows for more movement in animation.

I believe these adjustments offer a balance. She still looks capable and tough, but there’s undeniably more visual interest. The goal remains to tell a deep story, and perhaps these changes can attract a wider audience to experience it.

Let me know your initial thoughts, and let’s schedule that meeting to discuss further.

Best regards, Lyla Slate

Personal Journal Entry - May 8th, 2026

Another meeting. More feedback. Apparently, Version 1.1 wasn’t “pushing it far enough.” They liked the slightly tighter clothes, but wanted the tank top variant I’d sketched up (just to placate them honestly) as the default starting outfit. Said it showed off her “combat readiness” and “agility.” Combat readiness? By exposing her midriff? Riiiight.

And the face... they want her expression to be less “weary” and more “determined/intense.” Which, okay, that makes sense for a protagonist. Plus they loved the braids, and honestly I did too. But they also used phrases like “visually intriguing,” “seductive potential” – what does that even MEAN for a character fighting for her survival? Who is she seducing if not the player?

They showed me some competitor characters. It’s not like I hadn’t seen them all before. All with ridiculously tight outfits, impossible proportions, bedroom eyes while holding assault rifles. Is this really the only thing that sells?

I felt myself nodding along in the meeting. It’s getting harder to argue when everyone else is so aligned. They talk about engagement metrics, player retention, marketing hooks. I really thought Maggie would have more to say about the new direction they’re pushing for Astra’s character, but she seems strangely on board with these notes in a way I wasn’t expecting. My arguments about narrative integrity and relatable characters feel... naive? Unprofessional? I’m not the writer or the director, so who am I to say who Astra is supposed to be?

I’m starting to feel like I have to prove I can deliver what they want, not what I think is right.

I sketched Astra in the tank top look again tonight. Added some definition to her abs, made the tank just slightly lower cut. And... I didn’t hate it as much as I expected. It does look more dynamic. More active. Maybe they have a point about her physique. She would be incredibly fit. It’s not completely out of nowhere for her character.

It’s weird. The more I draw her this way, the less it feels like a betrayal and more like... another version of her. A stronger, more outwardly confident version?

Confidence is nice.

I also found myself looking in the mirror tonight for far longer than usual. Baggy sweater, jeans, hair scraped back. I was definitely my usual self, but compared to the new and improved Astra that I’ve been drawing, I felt a bit, well... drab. Is this what they mean by “understated”? Am I… boring?

My compromise sketch for Version 1.2 is definitely hotter. And part of me feels a little thrill looking at it.

That reminds me, Tom was saying the graphics team is synced up and ready to go, so I’ll be collaborating with them as soon as next week to generate Astra’s first model set. I’m trying to be excited. That should be fun. I’m hoping they’ll be willing to realize some of my original versions alongside the newer ones, so that we can have a side-by-side comparison. Maybe the realism of our original pitch will shine through? Get us all back on a more sane path? I don’t know, even I’m not so sure what is right anymore.

Lots to look forward to, I guess. Lyla

Internal Chat Log - May 13, 2026, 9am

LylaSlate: Hey team, sending around Astra Concept 1.0 and 1.1 sketches now so you have a baseline to compare when I send over the package for version 1.2 later today. Eager to incorporate your feedback on primary outfit and facial expression as we bring Astra into the game engine for the first time. DevSilva: Ooh, I’m liking this. 1.0 is super cool, but 1.1 really takes it up a notch. Curious to see 1.2! TomKrantz: Yeah, excited to review, Lyla. I know J-L is keen on pushing the look further. Can’t wait to see what you’ve cooked up! LylaSlate: Thanks! Yeah, I’m trying to find a good balance. Her default outfit is the tank top now, tightened up the pants more, working on facial concepts that deliver on expressivity as well as intensity. DevSilva: Nice. Gonna nail that promo art potential! Get people clicking the trailers. Excited to work together with you again, L! LylaSlate: Haha, yeah, that’s the goal! Hopefully, this next version delivers on that. TomKrantz: Good stuff. Ping me when they’re up.

Internal Chat Log - May 13, 2026, 3pm

LylaSlate: Okay team, concepts for 1.2 uploaded to the shared drive. Let me know what you think… DevSilva: WHOA. Okay, yeah, that’s a shift. Looks great though! Loads more presence and allure. TomKrantz: Yeah, digging that updated face. And the outfit... definitely meets J-L’s ‘arresting’ request and then some. Looks badass, Lyla. Good work. DevSilva: 🙌🔥 This is the stuff marketing dreams are made of lol. She looks incredible. Honored to bring her to life. I’ll touch base when I’ve got some models for you to review. And you said you wanted me to have a go at 1.0 and 1.1 as well? A little unorthodox, but I’d be happy to take a crack at it.

Personal Journal Entry - May 13th, 2026

They like her. Really like her. I was worried I might have gone too far, but they seem genuinely excited. And... I am too? Seeing her like this, she does pop. She looks powerful. More than just a survivor – a survivor who owns her power.

And the way they talked about her... “incredible,” “badass,” “arresting.” It’s not just about sexiness, is it? It’s about strength, inner confidence projected outwards.

I looked at my sketches again just now. The defined arms, the way the tank top clings slightly, the strategically placed cutouts, the intensity in her eyes... she looks like someone who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to fight for it.

I... I kind of want to look like that.

I can’t wait to see what Dev puts together.

Lyla

Subject: Astra 1.2 - Initial 3D High-Poly Block-Out Review Date: 2026-05-22 From: Dev Silva, Senior 3D Character Artist ([email protected]) To: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected]) CC: Tom Krantz, Art Director ([email protected])

Hey L,

I’ve dropped the first rough version for Astra 1.2 into the shared drive. Take a look at filename Astra_1.2_HighPoly_V1.obj to see my progress.

I think the intensity is definitely there! Since she’s going to be viewed primarily from a third-person, over-the-shoulder gameplay camera, I took a few creative liberties to make sure the silhouette really pops from a distance. I pushed the hip-to-waist ratio just a tiny bit further than your sketch to emphasize the athletic hourglass shape in motion. It’s going to make her look incredibly dynamic when she moves, even in the default engine lighting.

Let me know your thoughts before I start carving into the details!

Best, Dev

Subject: RE: Astra 1.2 - Initial 3D High-Poly Block-Out Review Date: 2026-05-22 From: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected]) To: Dev Silva, Senior 3D Character Artist ([email protected])

Hey Dev,

Wow, the turnaround time on this is incredible! You’ve done a beautiful job translating my vision! The weight of the material feels so real.

By the way, are you still on track to block out the rough 3D meshes for the original 1.0 and 1.1 concepts this week? I’m really keen to have those ready for our side-by-side comparison with Jean-Luc next month.

Thanks! Lyla

Subject: RE: RE: Astra 1.2 - Initial 3D High-Poly Block-Out Review Date: 2026-05-22 From: Dev Silva, Senior 3D Character Artist ([email protected]) To: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected])

Hey again,

I did put in some time on V 1.0 and V 1.1, just for you L. Because we’re friends. And I was honestly having a good time rendering it too. I dropped what I have so far into our shared folder, so you can look. But unfortunately I’m gonna have to set them aside - after my scheduling sync this morning, I’m going to have to be putting all my processing time in for the models of Astra 1.3 and so on. Marketing’s really gunning to have some fully textured, high-res Astra visuals for the shareholder preview they’ve got coming up.

Sorry about that! I know you really wanted your side-by-side comparisons, but you know how things go!

Dev

Personal Journal Entry - May 26, 2026

I needed this long weekend so, so badly.

When Dev’s email came through on Friday about being told to drop the 1.0 and 1.1 3D designs entirely, my knee-jerk reaction was to panic. I had this grand, dramatic vision of walking into Jean-Luc’s office, throwing down the realistic version next to the stylized one, and forcing some big philosophical reckoning about the state of the industry.

But honestly? Over the last few days, away from the studio noise, I’ve been rethinking the whole thing.

Why am I trying to force a fight that nobody else wants to pick? Everyone… Tom, Dev, even Maggie… is genuinely obsessed with Version 1.2. They aren’t treating it like a hollow corporate sellout; they think she looks powerful, dynamic, and genuinely iconic. And if the people actually building the game are that inspired by it, maybe I should stop playing the martyr and just ride the wave.

Jean-Luc is already asking for Version 1.3 anyway. The train is moving, and I’d rather be in the engine room shaping where it goes next than standing beside the tracks trying to look noble. I think I’m just going to pour all that stubborn emotional energy into making 1.3 absolutely spectacular.

To prove to myself (and the guys) that I can totally nail this aesthetic, I actually did a little “retail therapy” self-care over the weekend. I hit the shops and picked up a few new outfits for the office; things that are a bit more tailored and flattering than my usual oversized sweaters. I even went into Sephora and let the consultant talk me into a whole new makeup routine.

I know how this sounds. I’m not trying to literally morph into Astra or anything ridiculous like that. But honestly, if my job right now is to design a convincingly attractive, highly polished female character with serious “stage presence,” I might as well do some actual background research on what I’m working with.

Understanding how contouring changes facial geometry, how lighting hits specific products, and how tailored clothing changes posture... it’s all technically just practical texture mapping and reference gathering for the day job, right?

I walked past the hallway mirror this morning before writing this, and I have to admit, the change feels good. I feel confident. Stronger, even.

Heading into the studio today with a fresh face, a sharp outfit, and ready to start sketching 1.3. Feeling confident for the first time in weeks. Let’s do this.

Lyla

Personal Journal Entry - July 6th, 2026

Okay, something weird is happening.

The Astra design is moving full steam ahead in the ‘sexier’ direction. I added options for tactical gear that involves cutouts like in my tank top design (“for ventilation!” was the excuse), and her initial animations are being designed to have more emphasis on fluid, almost sensual combat moves (“maximizing visual flair!”). Dialogue is being tweaked too. Still tough, but with moments of dry wit or suggestive remarks that weren’t there before.

But here’s the weird part: I’m finding myself suggesting some of these things now. I pitched an idea for a ‘distraction’ game mechanic where Astra could use her... charm? to get past certain guards. It got approved instantly. And after Maggie told me about a significant new artifact collectibles side quest she’s working on, I designed a new outfit variant based on ancient warrior armor that’s mostly leather straps and strategically placed armor plates. Again, total buy-in.

I went clothes shopping again last weekend. Ended up buying a couple of tops I never would have looked at before – tighter fits, lower necklines. Even bought a pair of boots with a noticeable heel. My boring, practical wardrobe suddenly feels... inadequate. I want clothes that make me feel like Astra looks in the current concepts – strong, visible, maybe a little dangerous.

I also started styling my hair differently. Letting it down, trying to give it some volume instead of just pulling it back. I’m even experimenting with some more dramatic makeup products. I ordered some bright eyeshadow palettes and an overnight lip-plumping mask. Just trying to make my eyes look bigger, my lips fuller, kind of like Astra’s refined face model.

Again, I’m not trying to literally look like Astra. I just feel... bolder? Lately. I spoke up more in the last design meeting, not just defending my work but actively pushing for these new, sexier elements. I feel a surge of confidence whenever I see the leads signing off on my recent suggestions. It feels good to be seen, to have my ideas (even these new ideas) valued.

It’s like Astra’s transformation is leaking into my own life. Or maybe... maybe I’m just finally letting myself come out of my shell?

I’m not sure if this is healthy or if I’m losing myself, but... either way I kind of like it.

Lyla

Subject: Astra Animation Notes & Character Movement Style Date: 2026-08-15 From: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected]) To: Dev Silva, Senior 3D Character Artist ([email protected]) CC: Jean-Luc Laurent, Project Siren Director ([email protected]), Margaret Ashton, Lead Writer ([email protected]), Tom Krantz, Art Director ([email protected]), Harold Emerson, Marketing Director ([email protected])

Hi Dev!

I’m copying everyone else on this email so they can see how things are coming together on our end!

Exciting meeting yesterday on Astra’s movement sets! Loved the combat flow we discussed.

Building on that, I’ve put together some detailed notes and video references for her general locomotion, idle stances, and environmental interactions.

We talked about making her movement feel fluid and powerful, but I also want to ensure there’s a certain... presence to her, even when she’s just standing or traversing. I’ve included references that incorporate elements of her innate confidence, perhaps a subtle sway in her hips when walking, a deliberate shift of weight during idles, or dramatic but effective leaps and rolls in traversal.

I’ve attached some sketches showing suggested poses – strong, dynamic, definitely leaning into her athletic build emphasized in the updated character model. I want her to move like someone who is fully aware of her body and its capabilities, maybe even slightly theatrical in her confidence.

Think less standard ‘game character run cycle’ and more ‘action hero swagger’. It should feel natural for her, but undeniably striking.

Let me know if any of these references or poses align with the animation direction. Happy to discuss further or provide more specific examples. This phase is going to make her feel truly alive!

Best, Lyla

Subject: RE: Animation Notes & Character Movement Style Date: 2026-08-15 From: Harold Emerson, Marketing Director ([email protected]) To: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected]) CC: Dev Silva, Senior 3D Character Artist ([email protected]), Jean-Luc Laurent, Project Siren Director ([email protected]), Margaret Ashton, Lead Writer ([email protected]), Tom Krantz, Art Director ([email protected])

Lyla,

Spot on. Absolutely spot on.

I just walked the marketing team through your attached stance sketches and the “action hero swagger” reference clips. Everyone is incredibly hyped. This is exactly the kind of high-impact visual hook we need to cut through the noise in the Q4 preview cycle.

It gives the character an immediate, undeniable presence that will track beautifully in 10-second social clips.

If the animation team can execute on this theatricality, we’re looking at a major spike in organic pre-orders the second the reveal trailer drops. Brilliant work pushing the aesthetic envelope here. This is how you build a brand icon.

Best, Harry

Subject: RE: RE: Animation Notes & Character Movement Style Date: 2026-08-15 From: Jean-Luc Laurent, Project Siren Director ([email protected]) To: Lyla Slate, Lead Concept Artist ([email protected]), Harold Emerson, Marketing Director ([email protected]) CC: Dev Silva, Senior 3D Character Artist ([email protected]), Margaret Ashton, Lead Writer ([email protected]), Tom Krantz, Art Director ([email protected])

Lyla,

Magnifique. You have captured the lightning here.

This is precisely what I meant back in April when I asked for something more arresting. Astra is no longer just a body moving through a digital space ; she is a legend in motion. She is dominating the screen, fully aware of the camera, fully owning her environment.

I must admit, I am incredibly proud to see your evolution on this project. You have successfully bridged the gap between raw narrative intent and the grand, iconic scale that a studio of our ambition requires. You aren’t just drawing background NPCs anymore, Lyla. You are shaping the modern heroine.

Dev—let’s get these locomotion notes baked into the rough skeleton rig immediately. I want to see this swagger in our next internal build review on Friday.

Merci, Jean-Luc

Internal Chat Log - August 16, 2026, 10:15am

DevSilva: Hey L! Just saw the emails from Harry and Jean-Luc. “Magnifique” and “undeniable presence”?? Unreal. You’re absolutely killing it right now. 🔥 LylaSlate: Omg thanks Dev! I’m honestly so relieved. I was a little nervous about pushing so hard, but it feels amazing to have the whole leadership team completely on board. I’m really proud of how those stance variants turned out. DevSilva: You should be! You completely reinvented her, and honestly, it’s making my job so much more fun. The locomotion rig is going to look stunning. DevSilva: Also... side note... can we talk about the outfit you had on in the review meeting yesterday? Because wow. LylaSlate: Haha, what about it? 🙈 DevSilva: Just saying, the new style suits you. The tailored look, the boots... it’s like a whole new you. It definitely caught my attention. 😉 LylaSlate: Oh, thank you! I decided it was time to upgrade the wardrobe and get out of my oversized sweater phase. Figured if I’m designing a character with major swagger, I should probably channel some of it myself! DevSilva: Well, consider it successfully channeled. It’s working for you. Big time. LylaSlate: Haha, thanks Dev, you’re sweet. It definitely helps with my confidence in those meetings. DevSilva: Anytime. Let me know if you want to grab coffee tomorrow and look over the initial skeleton rig? I can show you how that hip-sway is looking in real-time. LylaSlate: I would love that! Let’s do 9:30am tomorrow? DevSilva: Perfect. It’s a date. ☕✨

Personal Journal Entry - September 23rd, 2026

Motion capture session today for some of Astra’s key movements. I was on set, watching the MoCap actress perform the moves I’d designed with Dev. Combat rolls, traversal animations, even some of the ‘confident idle’ poses I suggested.

Seeing a real person embody Astra’s updated physicality... it was incredible. The way she moved, the confidence in her posture, the deliberate grace combined with raw power. It wasn’t just “sexy” in the way I initially feared; it was commanding. It was captivating.

I found myself unconsciously mirroring some of her stances during breaks. Standing straighter, hands on hips, a slight tilt to my head. Channeling all of that energy is even easier in my new boots. The actress, who is stunning and incredibly talented, even complimented my suggestions, saying they felt empowering to perform. Empowering. Yes, that’s it. That’s the word I was missing.

Astra isn’t just sexier now. She’s embodying a different kind of strength, one that uses everything she has – her body, her wit, her presence – as a weapon or a tool. And watching her, helping to shape her... I feel like I’m learning to embrace that power in myself.

I bought a fitted leather jacket last week. It feels amazing to wear. And I’ve started going out more, meeting friends, feeling more comfortable being seen. I used to shrink away, the nerdy designer in the corner. Now... I feel different somehow. It’s thrilling.

Yesterday, I had a conversation with Maggie about a potential future plot point where Astra has to infiltrate a high-society event. Initially, the idea was just to have her sneak in, relying only on stealth. I suggested she goes in as herself, but uses her confidence and allure to bluff her way through, maybe even manipulating key NPCs with her sexuality. It adds a whole new layer! Maggie loved it. I went right back to my desk and sketched Astra in a sexy, floor-length evening look immediately.

These ideas are coming so naturally now. They don’t feel forced or even like a compromise anymore. They feel like natural developments. Like Astra is growing into something more complex, more daring.

Deep down, I feel like I should be upset for some reason, but if anything, I get it. I’m experiencing what it’s like to be… sexy. And honestly, I kind of love this version of me.

Lyla xx

Subject: Marketing Assets Review & Character Highlight Date: 2026-10-16 From: Jean-Luc Laurent, Project Siren Director ([email protected]) To: Project Siren - All ([email protected])

Team,

Quick update following the marketing sync yesterday (Thanks, Lyla, for joining us and for talking with Harry and me all afternoon - where did the time go ?). They are ecstatic about Astra’s current look and feel. The latest character renders and the teaser animation reel are performing exceptionally well in focus groups and internal testing. The buzz is real !

Specifically, the reception to her visual design has been overwhelmingly positive. Focus group testers are responding strongly to her powerful yet alluring presence. This is exactly the kind of character who can carry a major franchise.

Big props to Lyla Slate and the whole character design team for absolutely nailing this. Lyla, your recent contributions, particularly your gameplay suggestions and input on expressive animation, have been instrumental in defining Astra’s unique appeal. You’ve taken the initial concept and evolved it into something truly special.

We’re moving forward with key art and trailer production featuring Astra prominently in several of her signature looks. Get ready to see her everywhere !

Exciting times ahead for Project Siren !

Best, Jean-Luc

Personal Journal Entry - October 16th, 2026

“Evolved it into something truly special.”

They used to call my original vision “understated.” Now it’s “truly special.” I know at one point I would have been deeply disturbed about where we’ve landed, but I can’t seem to find that anger anymore. After all, feeling empowered and drawing attention by dressing sexily - if that made me mad, I’d be such a hypocrite.

Besides... Astra does feel special. Seeing her in the latest high-res renders, ready for promo art, I felt a surge of pride stronger than anything I felt about the earlier versions. She’s mine. I made her. And she is, as Jean-Luc would say, magnifique.

She looks like she belongs on the cover of a magazine. She looks like she could take on the world and look damn good doing it.

Not my usual scene, but I was at a bar with some friends last night. Someone I didn’t know came up and started talking to me. He was charming, and I felt completely at ease, witty, confident. I wasn’t shrinking away, hoping not to be noticed. I was... engaged. It felt almost easy. Natural. Like something Astra would do.

I used to think designing a strong female character required her to be so perfect, almost unimpeachable in her presentation. Now, I think embracing the power and confidence that can come with owning your sexuality and aesthetic appeal, both in a character and in myself, is the real answer.

Project Siren is more than a game to me now. It’s become such an inspiration. I can’t wait to play it and see Astra come alive. I can’t wait to be her. In some ways, I feel like I already am.

Lyla 💋

Personal Journal Entry - January 5, 2027

Holy shit! I am still flying so high I can barely keep my feet on the ground.

When the teaser trailer dropped last month, I knew we had something special, but I don’t think any of us were prepared for the absolute explosion of attention that followed. Millions of views in the first twenty-four hours alone. It’s a total viral sensation. And the new title? Just Astra. It’s perfect. It’s clean, punchy, and puts her exactly where she belongs: center stage.

Harry from Marketing sent out the demographic breakdowns a few days ago, and the metrics are apparently through the roof, especially with the male audience. They are utterly obsessed with her. Honestly, I can’t blame them because I kind of am too. The comments sections are just walls of fire emojis and people screaming about how she’s their new favorite gaming icon. Seeing the world react to my designs like that... it’s an indescribable rush. The whole team is over the moon.

The energy at the office trailer launch party was electric. Everyone was drinking, laughing, blasting the trailer music. I was standing near the projection screen with Dev, just watching Astra’s locomotion cycle play out on the big screen, and the adrenaline just completely took over. It was totally impulsive, but I turned around and kissed him right there in front of everyone.

And you know what? I don’t regret it at all. Not even a little bit. He was shocked for about a second, and then he just pulled me closer. Old Lyla, the nerdy, invisible girl hiding in her baggy sweaters, would have died of embarrassment or spent weeks overthinking it. But this version of me? She just owns it. It felt completely natural. It felt like something Astra would do.

I feel more deeply attached to Astra than I ever have, and I’m pouring every ounce of this new confidence right back into my tablet.

With our sights locked on the holiday 2027 release date, production is moving at a breakneck pace, and I’m busy expanding the visual universe. Jean-Luc had a brilliant idea for a pre-order bonus, so right now I’m finalizing a skimpy bikini skin for the island-hopping chapters. A few months ago, I probably would have fought him tooth and nail on it. Now? I’m having a blast figuring out how to make the cut of the fabric look incredibly striking while keeping her tactical holster placement from causing animation clipping issues down the road. It’s coming along great and I know it’s going to drive the fan base wild.

I’m also quietly developing some gorgeous, sultry bedroom concept art. Maggie pulled me into a private sync last week and filled me in on some upcoming post-launch DLC narrative plans that may or may not involve a few intimate, late-night encounters for Astra in her safehouse. The lighting setup Dev and I are planning for those scenes is going to be stunning; very soft, dramatic, and deeply alluring. We may or may not have already started doing some real-world testing on just that kind of scene. I said what I said, shut up.

Staring at those bedroom sketches tonight, with the cool glow of my screen hitting my face, I couldn’t help but smile. If Astra gets to have some sultry bedroom scenes in her near future, I think it’s only fair that I get some of my own too. Anyway, I gotta sign off for now. Dev and I are grabbing dinner later, and I need to figure out what I’m going to wear.

Lyla 💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yes?” she said, her tone crisp.

The agent, a friendly woman with a warm smile, beamed at her. “Good news, Ms. Reed. We have an opening in first class. As a thank you for your loyalty, we’d like to offer you a complimentary upgrade to seat 2A. Priority Plus boarding would be included as well, of course.”

A genuine, if small, smile touched Evelyn’s lips. This was a net positive. More space meant a more comfortable workspace. A lie-flat seat meant she could power through her reports without the slightest kink in her neck. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

As the gate agent printed the new boarding pass, she made the requisite small talk. “So, Hawaii! Headed to the islands for business or pleasure?”

“Definitely business,” Evelyn replied, her words clipped. The distinction was important. Pleasure was a frivolous expenditure of time and money. Business was an investment.

“Well, I hope you have a pleasant flight,” she said, handing her the ticket.

She nodded, her mind already back on Q3 revenue projections. “I plan to make it a productive one.”

Boarding with the very first group, Evelyn settled into the plush leather cocoon of seat 2A. The sheer luxury of the first class space was barely registered, noted only for its ergonomic benefits. She stowed her briefcase, her fingers already itching to retrieve her laptop. As soon as the plane leveled off after its powerful ascent, the seatbelt sign pinged off. With a brisk, efficient motion, she had the laptop open on the expansive tray table in front of her, and was staring at a dense spreadsheet of financial projections, the cabin noise fading into a dull hum as she immersed herself in the world of numbers and clauses.

The first hour of the flight passed in a blur of intense focus. She drafted three memos, revised her presentation slides, and cross-referenced a complex financial model with projected tourism data. A flight attendant offered her champagne. She accepted it, not for the indulgence, but simply because it was part of the first class service she was accustomed to. She took a small, crisp sip and turned her attention to the 50-page project proposal:

PROJECT TITLE: MLG 2025 Expansion – Phase 1 ROI Analysis AUTHOR: E. Reed STATUS: In Progress

I. Executive Summary: The proposed acquisition of three beachfront properties on the Big Island presents a unique strategic advantage. While initial capital outlay is substantial, projected RevPAR (Revenue Per Available Room) indicates a full return on investment within a 36-month window, assuming a conservative 85% occupancy rate post-launch.

II. Key Performance Indicators (KPIs):

Target ADR (Average Daily Rate): $850 (luxury suites), $550 (standard rooms)

Market Penetration Goal: Capture 15% of the regional luxury tourism market within 18 months.

Operational Efficiency: Implement new automated check-in/concierge system to reduce staffing overhead by 8%.

III. Risk Assessment: The primary risk remains… remains the… stuffiness. The whole plan. It feels so gray. So… corporate. Why isn’t there any color? Why isn't it more… fun? The numbers are right, but the feeling is wrong. The vibe is completely off…

She paused her furious typing, feeling slightly off, chastising herself for getting distracted. “Wait. What am I writing? Focus, Evelyn.”

She deleted the last few lines, and tried again.

The primary risk remains the volatility of the seasonal tourism market, which can be mitigated through aggressive marketing campaigns targeting off-season corporate retreats and… and honeymoons. Oh, honeymoons would be so dreamy there. Champagne and rose petals on the bed. Little cabanas by the pool with cute waiters bringing piña coladas…

She paused again, and rubbed her temples. She felt like she had a headache building. “Okay, what is happening? Why do I feel so strange?” she mumbled to herself.

It was somewhere over the vast, empty blue of the Pacific that the first physical shift occurred. A strange warmth bloomed in her chest, a pleasant, languid sensation that felt entirely out of place. The champagne she was drinking, crisp and cold, seemed to fizz not just on her tongue, but through her very veins, dissolving the hard edges of her focus. She blinked, momentarily losing her place in a paragraph of dense legalese. The stiff collar of her white silk blouse suddenly felt restrictive, almost… scratchy. She felt a pressure in her outfit that was as unexpected as it was uncomfortable. She absently reached up and unfastened the top button. The relief was immediate and surprising.

She tried to refocus on the screen, but her eyes kept drifting to the window, to the impossible sapphire of the ocean meeting the pale blue of the sky. A thought, whimsical and utterly alien, floated through her mind: I wonder if the water at the resort is warm enough for a midnight swim.

She shook her head, annoyed. What a ridiculous, unproductive thought. But the project proposal now seemed… dull. The black and white performance metrics swam before her eyes, losing their sharp, satisfying clarity. She minimized the window, intending to pull up a different report, but found her fingers typing the name of her father’s flagship hotel on the Big Island, Mauna Lani, into the search bar. She wasn’t looking up occupancy rates or profit margins, though. She was clicking through the photo gallery of the infinity pool, the spa, the beachfront cocktail bar.

Her suit jacket felt heavy. She shrugged it off, draping it over the arm rest beside her. Unnoticed, the navy blue material seemed to shimmer under the cabin lights, the color softening, lightening to the shade of a breezy, sand-colored linen. The fabric of her entire outfit felt different against her fingers, less structured, more yielding. Her trousers felt equally oppressive. She shifted in her seat, and the structured fabric seemed to melt away, replaced by the soft, flowing material of a vibrant, floral-print sundress that ended daringly high on her thighs. Her legs, once clad in sensible slacks, were now bare, smooth, and tanned.

A strange tingling sensation started in her scalp. The pins holding her severe bun seemed to loosen, to dissolve into nothing. She raised a hand to her head, and was met not with a tight coil of hair, but a soft, tumbling cascade of waves. She pulled a strand forward. It was lighter, streaked with honey-blonde highlights that seemed to capture the sunlight from the window. Confused, she tilted her laptop screen to catch her reflection.

The face looking back was hers, but… amplified. Her makeup was no longer minimal. A subtle, smoky eye made her irises pop, her lashes were long and dark, and her lips, which she thought she’d left bare, were now coated in a shimmering, glossy pink. She looked glamorous. She looked… expensive.

The laptop on her lap suddenly felt clunky and obsolete. Her work—the reports, the contracts—it all seemed so dreadfully boring. So much effort. She closed the device, and as she did, it seemed to fade, to dematerialize. In its place, her hand was holding a sleek, rose-gold smartphone, its screen glowing with the vibrant, addictive interface of an Instagram feed. Her briefcase was gone, too. On the floor where it had been sat a plush leather designer handbag in a chic shade of white.

She blinked, but there was no sense of panic, only a placid, bubbly acceptance. Of course. This was her phone. This was her bag. She giggled, a light, airy sound she hadn't made in years. She started scrolling through her feed, a curated collection of beautiful people in beautiful places. Her own posts were prominent: her posing by a pool in Mykonos, sipping rosé in St. Barts, shopping on Rodeo Drive. Her job title in her bio read: VP of Brand Management, Reed Hospitality Group.

Brand Management. That sounded right. It was, like, a super important job. It involved… well, it involved showing everyone how amazing Daddy’s hotels were. Mostly by, you know, looking amazing in them. She fired off a quick email on her new phone. "Heyyyy team," she typed with her thumb, her long, perfectly manicured nails clicking against the screen. "Just a heads up, gonna be creating some epic content in Hawaii for the next couple weeks! Don't bug me unless it's a mimosa emergency! xoxo, Evie."

Evelyn. The name felt stuffy and old. She was Evie. Everyone called her Evie.

Her low, practical heels felt tight. Then suddenly the low-heeled pumps were gone. When she glanced down, she saw they had transformed. In their place were a pair of delicate, strappy sandals with a towering stiletto heel that made her legs look a mile long. Her toes, she noted with satisfaction, were painted a perfect shade of coral.

She stretched languidly in her seat, feeling utterly relaxed. The important-looking men in suits around her in first class no longer registered as potential business contacts. Now, they were just… cute. She particularly liked the look of the one across the aisle, the one with the strong jaw and the expensive watch. He looked powerful. Important.  A CEO, maybe? She wondered if he was staying at one of Daddy’s hotels. Maybe she could get him a discount. Or a free drink. Or her room number. A slow, mischievous smile spread across her glossy lips.

A chime sounded from her phone. A personal notification from the hotel manager. “Hi Evie! Welcome back! The Mauna Lani Grand Penthouse is all ready for your two week stay. We’ve stocked the fridge with champagne and your favorite snacks. The VIP welcome package is already waiting in your suite, and your personal driver will pick you up at arrivals after you land. Can’t wait to have you!”

She smiled. A full two weeks. No meetings. No spreadsheets. Just sun, spas, and shopping. This ‘work trip’ was really just a fun little excuse for a vacation. Her only real work would be posting a few selfies in a bikini, tagging the hotel. That definitely counted as work. She loved to travel, of course. But the idea of actually working on the journey? Ugh, what a waste. It was so much better to relax, to live it up.

For the rest of the flight, Evie was completely absorbed in her new reality. She scrolled through Instagram, liking photos of other influencers in exotic locales. She shopped online, adding a scandalous string bikini and a pair of oversized designer sunglasses to her cart, and having them shipped to her penthouse suite. She idly twirled her manicured nails through the lengthening locks of her increasingly blonde hair. She took a few selfies, pouting and preening at the camera until she got the perfect angle. She ordered a mimosa, then another, giggling with the flight attendant who called her "Miss Reed” with such adorable deference. The journey, which Evelyn had seen as a productive work session, was now just the boring part before the fun began. For Evie, being there was always a million times better than getting there.

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom, announcing their initial descent. Evie pressed her gorgeous face to the window, a genuine thrill bubbling inside her as the lush green of the island rose from the turquoise ocean. Paradise. Her own little slice of it, paid for by Daddy.

She decided she wanted to make a quick Insta post before landing. She held up her recently refilled mimosa in front of her, her coral manicure looking as glamorous as can be, turquoise waters visible out the window. In a quick series of clicks and taps, a caption was typed out and the photo was posted on her account, @officialEvieReed.

As the plane touched down with a gentle bump, she gathered her things: her gorgeous handbag and a chic, lightweight wrap that had appeared on the seat beside her. She pulled a small business card from her purse. It was thick, glossy, and bubblegum pink, with ‘Evie Reed’ embossed in gold script above her Instagram handle. Below that, an email address. No phone number. Keep 'em wanting more, she thought to herself. As the cute passenger from across the aisle passed her, she caught his eye, gave him a dazzling smile, and slipped the card into his hand with a playful wink. She leaned in just enough to give him a whiff of her expensive, tropical perfume. "If you need any recommendations while you're here," she purred, her hand lingering on his, "you know who to call." She gave him another smile before turning and sashaying down the aisle, the sway of her hips holding his attention well after she walked away.

She disembarked from the plane, no longer the serious businesswoman, but a vision of wealth and effortless beauty. The click-clack of her towering heels was a metronome of leisure and luxury. She sauntered out of the jet bridge and paused at the gate, tapping her long, coral nails on the counter to get the attention of the gate agent who was monitoring her plane’s arrival.

“Excuse me? Hi! Sorry to bother you, you look super busy, but also super nice!” she said, her voice a sweet, musical lilt. “I was just wondering where I’m supposed to pick up my luggage? I have, like, a lot. It’s a whole set of the rose gold Rimowas? They should all be tagged Priority.”

The agent smiled, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. She handed him her boarding pass. He typed her name and ticket number into the computer system.

“Reed… let me see… huh. That’s weird. My system says you only checked one bag. A standard black roller.”

“Ew, what? No. I would literally never. That must be some kind of mistake. I haven’t used a sad black suitcase since, like, ever! It’s definitely the rose gold set. There are five of them. Can you search again?”

He gave a tight smile and obliged. The computer system flickered, the screen wavering before refreshing with new information. “Ah, here we go. Your luggage is showing up in the system now. Yes, five items linked to your ticket. Looks like it’s all heading to Carousel 3. Let me just print you off a new set of claim tickets.”

While the printer booted up, he fell back on his customary script. “So, welcome to Hawaii,” he asked, looking up at the radiant woman before him. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

Evie tossed her perfectly highlighted hair over her shoulder and flashed a smile so bright it could have powered the entire terminal.

“Oh my god, that’s hilarious. Definitely pleasure! Is there any other reason to come to Hawaii?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aisle four, sir!” I chirped, my voice an octave higher than usual. “Let me know if you need any help picking the perfect one! Have a super day!”

My brain was screaming. What was that? Who is this person? Why am I suddenly talking like a cartoon bluebird? But I couldn't seem to stop. It was like I was a passenger in my own body, watching this bubbly Stepford-wife version of myself go through the motions. It was as if someone had remote downloaded a brand new UI, overlaying my interface with an entirely new personality skin. And I hated it.

Around noon, as if it was programmed, he walked in. Tyler94. Same messy hair, same clueless expression. “Hey,” he said, approaching my section. “I wanna build a sick gaming rig. I've got a case, but I'm pretty lost on everything else. Any advice?”

In my head, I knew I should have given a curt nod, and explained the unavoidable limitations of his budget. Instead, this new me lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun!” I gushed, clasping my hands together. “Building a custom PC is the best. It's like putting together the ultimate puzzle for adults, right?”

I scanned the rows of parts, a rush of confidence and positivity hitting me. This was my jam. “So, let's start with the CPU. That's your central processor, the brain of the whole operation. You'll want a 7th gen unit at the very least to handle high-end gaming and multitasking without bottlenecking your system.”

He grinned. “Sounds good. What about the memory? Is that important?”

I nodded emphatically. “Crucial. For gaming, you'll want at least 16GB of RAM, but I'd recommend 32GB if you plan on doing any streaming or multitasking. The faster the MHz, the better, but anything over 3200MHz is solid. It's what lets your PC run a million things at once without getting hung up.”

He grinned. “That makes perfect sense. You're a natural at this.”

“I try,” I said smoothly. “And then for the graphics card, that's what renders all the visuals. You're looking for a good GPU. Generally, the bigger the number in the name, the better the performance.”

“Bigger numbers, got it,” he said. He looked at the price tag on a very high-end card. “I’m guessing this one would be enough then?”

“I’d say you’re on the right track, but you don’t need to get the top-of-the-line if you don’t want to. Anything on that shelf should do the trick,” I promised. “But seriously, if you need any more advice, just let me know. I can walk you through the power supply, motherboard, and cooling options too. I'm here to, you know, talk tech and help people out. It's kind of my thing.”

He looked a little dazed at all the options. “Well, thanks for all your help! I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“Anytime,” I said, unable to stop a smile.

I spent the rest of the afternoon giggling at customers’ dumb jokes and using words like “super” to describe processor speeds. Inside, I was rattling the bars of my own mental cage, but on the outside, I was a walking, talking embodiment of customer-facing cheer. I still knew all the tech specs, but the information came out coated in a thick, sweet glaze of unrelenting positivity.

At the end of my shift, Harrison held up the tablet again. “Great feedback today, team! Let’s review our first round of customer comments. Here’s one from Tyler94 for Quinn: ‘She was so friendly! Super helpful. But… she seemed a little condescending. You know, like she thinks she’s smarter than everyone else.’”

My forced smile froze on my face. Condescending? I had spent twenty minutes with that guy, acting like a golden retriever on its first trip to the park. What the hell?

“Just a little constructive criticism,” Harrison said gently.

I clocked out and drove home, like… before. Why did this all feel so familiar? I wanted to scowl, to fume. I practically felt like screaming. But for some reason I couldn’t shake the benign smile that now lived on my face. I tried to contemplate the strange day, the repetition of events, why nobody else seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary, but I found the stressful thoughts just slipping through my mind. Eventually I just flipped on my car’s radio, tuned to some upbeat pop station. I smiled, humming absentmindedly to the tune as my thoughts drifted. I was dead tired when I finally arrived home, so I stripped out of my work uniform, threw on an old worn T-shirt, and fell into bed.

And then, as my alarm noisily interrupted a deep sleep, it happened again. That same sickening lurch. As my eyes fluttered open, my mind’s eye swam with a smear of fluorescent light and red polos, then snapped back into focus just as I slammed my eyes shut.

I opened my eyes again. I was in my bed. My alarm clock read 6:31 AM. I looked at my watch, noticing for the first time that the date hadn’t changed since yesterday. Or the day before.

This time, the panic was immediate and sharp. This wasn’t just a feeling of déjà vu. This was real. I was trapped in some kind of time loop. For the first time in about 24 hours, my smile faltered. I got dressed in a fog, my mind racing. I almost put my work polo on inside out. What was going on? It seemed to have something to do with the feedback. The new system. Maybe it wasn’t just collecting data; it was enforcing it? Somehow? It was magically, terrifyingly correcting me based on the whims of idiots. But that seemed ridiculous. An iPad can’t change reality. Can it? I tried to process this theory, considering how it might work, whether it could even happen, but my mind felt uncharacteristically sluggish.

I walked into work determined to fight this… whatever it was. But the moment I stepped through the automatic doors, a strange fuzziness settled over my brain. I looked over at the front display, showcasing a high-end laptop, a model I could once recite the specs for practically in my sleep, and my mind was… blank. I knew it was a computer. It had a screen and a keyboard. Probably some kind of webcam. But the technical details, the nuance, how it compared to the other models, all the knowledge that I had prided myself on; it was all gone, hidden away behind a brand new mental firewall.

I stumbled through the now familiar morning routine. I clocked in as usual. I listened to Harrison give the spiel about the “new” customer feedback system. This time I didn’t even crack a joke, leaving Cody zoning out instead of his previous chuckle slash cough at my snark.

The same first customer arrived right on cue, asking about charging cables. Despite my internal disbelief, I beamed at him, just like before.

“Aisle four, sir!” I chirped, my voice still ringing out at that new chipper pitch I couldn’t seem to shake. “They have so many different kinds these days, it can be so confusing to tell what one you need. Let me know if you want me to send someone over who knows that stuff! Have a super day!”

Someone who knows? I was the someone who knows! I tried to think through the different cable types, what ports they used, but Lightning, USB-A, USB-C, all of them were starting to blend and blur together in my brain, their technical names being overwritten by “the flat one” or “the one that’s like a little oval” or “the one I alllwayyys seem to put in upside down haha”. I wasn’t just a passenger inside my own body anymore. Whatever nightmare this was seemed intent on rewriting my inner code, not just my UI. My memory banks were being actively purged somehow. 

By the time Tyler94 showed up, I was already feeling a genuine sense of helplessness. I watched him walk toward me from behind the laptop display, and I instantly straightened up, putting on my newly instinctive retail-employee smile.

“Hey, I wanna build a sick gaming rig,” he said.

For the first time, I noticed he was actually kind of good-looking, with his messy haircut and a genuinely friendly face. He gestured toward a wall of graphics cards. “I've got a case, but I'm pretty lost on everything else. Any advice?”

“Oh, absolutely!” I said with a little too much enthusiasm, stepping closer to him. “Building a custom PC is the best. It's like... putting together a super complicated puzzle for adults, right?” What did I just say?

I scanned the rows of parts, trying to recall literally anything I had learned from my degree and pretty much drawing a blank. “So, the most important thing is... umm… the processor,” I said, pointing vaguely toward a section of CPUs. “That's like the brain of the whole operation. You want a really smart one. Like, a super smart brain. Maybe one of the ones that have all those little... circuits? The more circuits, the better, I think.” I nodded emphatically, like I was trying to convince myself. Inside I was mortified.

He just grinned. “More circuits, got it. What about the memory? Is that important?”

I nodded confidently. “Oh, crucial. You want lots of that. You know how when you're doing a bunch of things at once and your brain feels full? It's like that. You need tons of memory so the computer can do, like, a million things at once without getting confused.” I held up a finger as I tried to remember the difference between megabytes and gigabytes, before just giggling and shrugging shyly. “I mean, a million-ish things.”

He chuckled softly. “A million-ish. That makes perfect sense. So, a smart brain and a million-ish things of memory. You're a natural at this.”

“I try,” I said, groaning internally as I winked at him. “And then for the graphics card, that's what makes the games look all pretty and super fast. You want to get like the shiniest one. I mean, the one with the biggest numbers. The bigger the numbers, the more it shines. So, you can see all the explosions and dragons and stuff.”

“Biggest numbers, got it,” he said, and I could tell he was trying to keep a straight face. He looked at the price tag on a high-end card. “I'm guessing this one shines a lot, then.”

“Oh, it's totally a disco ball in a box,” I promised. “But seriously, if you need any help, just let me know. I'm here to, you know, point at things and say they're cool. It's like kinda my thing.”

He leaned in a little, a mischievous look in his eyes. His eyes raked over me, practically leering despite my simple work-standard polo and basic khakis. “Well, you're the best guide I've had so far. Thanks for all your help!”

I felt my cheeks flush, and for a moment, I completely forgot about CPUs and graphics cards. “Anytime sweetie!” I said.

The horror was profound. I could hear how stupid I sounded. I was aware of my own incompetence, but I was powerless to access the information I knew was, or at least should be, in my head. The only silver lining I could muster up to reassure myself was that there was no way I came across thinking I was smarter than everyone else. Not in a million-ish years.

End of shift couldn’t come fast enough. Even with Mr. Harrison and the tablet looming, ready to trigger the next iteration of this time loop or whatever this was. I held my breath, dreading what was coming.

“Here’s one from a Tyler94,” Mr. Harrison announced. “‘Quinn was really sweet today! A little clueless about the tech stuff, but super nice. My only thing is, that uniform is so drab. A girl that pretty should dress nicer.’”

Harrison looked uncomfortable. “Sorry, Quinn, I know that last part is not really your call. Plus, it’s kind of out of line. You don’t choose the company dress policy. I’ll see if I can refile this one as a positive response…”

I barely took in what my boss was saying. I felt my mind go numb, registering the latest wave of nausea-inducing sexism by sinking into a stupor. Dress nicer. I clocked out, drove home on autopilot, humming along to the same upbeat radio without really thinking about the lyrics, or even the songs. I got ready for bed, already feeling in my bones what was coming next. The lurch. The reset. The loop.

6:30 AM. My alarm blared. But this time, something was already different. I wasn't in my usual sleep-shirt. I was wearing a silky nightgown. On the chair where my red polo and khaki pants should have been laid out, there was… another outfit entirely. A cute, form-fitting red crop top that scooped low in the front, and a light tan pair of short shorts that ended mid-thigh. A pair of stylish ankle boots sat on the floor next to the chair.

When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. My hair, normally completely unstyled or thrown into a messy ponytail, today fell naturally in perfect, soft waves around my shoulders. My face had a full application of makeup: smoky eyeshadow, flawless foundation, a glossy pink lip. My nails were manicured, a deep, shimmering crimson. I noticed they matched my top perfectly.

A part of me, the old, sarcastic Quinn, was horrified. This wasn't me. I looked like some kind of doll. But another, unfamiliar part of me felt a flicker of something else. A thrill. I looked… good. Really good.

Walking into Nexus Tech felt like stepping onto a movie set where I was the star. Cody couldn’t help but gawk his way through the morning huddle. Harrison just blinked, looking flustered when I flashed him my usual smile. The effects of the loops were definitely stacking. My “chipper” UI was still in full force. The “dumber” programming was still in place too, my tech knowledge seemingly long gone, but it now hardly mattered to my salesmanship with this new, polished exterior. Looking around, I realized I wasn’t alone. The few other female employees were dressed similarly, like we were a matching set of Best Buy Barbies. It dawned on me that this must just be the new women’s uniform. Nexus Tech was changing too. Did anyone else notice? When did the change happen? How long was this reality the reality in this new reality’s version of reality? Ugh, I was making my own head spin.

Phone charger guy’s eyes spent way more time lingering on me this time through, and I couldn’t exactly blame him. I was practically on display as much as the merchandise. Laptops. Smartphones. Boobs. Is this what Nexus Tech was going for?

When Tyler94 arrived right on schedule, his eyes widened too. “Whoa,” he breathed.

“Hiiii!” I chirped, leaning against a display counter in a way that made the new top do interesting things. “Anything I can, like, help you with today?”

In this new stylish package, my ditziness was now even more charming, my ignorance undeniably endearing. I couldn’t tell him about processor speeds, but I could flutter my eyelashes and pout my glossy lips, twirling my hair whenever he asked a hard question. He was putty in my hands. I clicked my new heels from shelf to shelf, aisle to aisle, and ultimately talked him into blowing his whole budget and then some on a pre-built machine, plus a ridiculously expensive warranty and a gaming mouse I recommended purely because it was “such a pretty shade of blue.”

Before he left, he leaned in close. “So, uh… can I get your number?”

The old Quinn would have laughed in his face. The current Quinn felt a jolt of panic inside, which translated to demurring awkwardly outside. “Oh, I’m not allowed to do that at work,” I stammered, my cheeks flushing.

End of shift. Finally. We had our team huddle yet again, and Harrison looked more uncomfortable than ever. “Okay, let’s see. Some feedback from someone going by Tyler94,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with me. “‘Wow. Just, wow. Quinn looked amazing today. A total knockout. I tried to ask for her number but she got all weird about it. She shouldn’t shoot guys down like that.’”

Panic surged inside of me. It must’ve even shown on my face for a moment, cracking through my now omnipresent smile.

Harrison looked over at me, his expression pained. “Look, Quinn, that’s… that’s completely inappropriate feedback. I’m going to delete this and report the user.”

I gave a chipper, “Thanks, Mr. H! You’re, like, the best!” Smiling brightly once again. Like always.

But it was already too late. Deep down I knew. I could feel the magic of the system churning, cosmic gears turning, latching onto the latest critique. The next loop was already on its way. She shouldn’t shoot guys down.

I was so freaked, I couldn’t describe my drive home even if I tried. By this time tomorrow, what would be left of me?

6:30 AM. I woke up feeling… strangely vibrant. The internal screaming was gone. The old, cynical Quinn was now just a faint echo, a ghost in the machine. I stretched in my favorite silky chemise, a slow, deliberate movement, feeling the fabric slide against my skin. I looked at the hot work outfit on the chair and felt a surge of genuine excitement to put it on.

Everything seemed the same so far, but my reaction was different. I met my own gaze in the mirror and winked. I looked like such a babe! I spared a thought for poor Kathryn, stuck time looping in bed with the flu. At least I got to go to work and have some fun!

At work, I moved with a new, fluid confidence. I laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that turned heads. I was still totally clueless about the products, but I had become an expert in people, especially men.

Not long after I was done winking and flirting with phone charger guy, Tyler94 arrived as per usual, walking around the front laptop display, eyes glued to my figure, just like… yesterday? Last time? Whatever… I greeted him with a bright, eager smile.

“Hey there! Did you need help finding anything, or are you just admiring the view?” I said, cocking my hip to the side, my voice a low, playful purr.

He was so flustered. It was adorable. “I, uh, I think I need help finding something,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. “I'm a little overwhelmed by all the... options.” He glanced around the store, his eyes flickering away from mine for a second before he looked back, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, definitely need help.”

I giggled. “Well, you totally came to the right place!! I usually know exactly how to help guys out.”

He was mine from that moment on. I didn’t just flirt with him; I orchestrated the entire interaction. I touched his arm when I laughed. I leaned in close to tell him about a sale like I was sharing an intimate secret. When he asked for my number, I batted my eyelashes, took his phone, typed my number in, and saved my contact as “Quinn ;).”

“Text me,” I said, handing it back with a wink that promised everything.

He stumbled out of the store in a daze, clutching the most expensive gaming laptop we had, a purchase he absolutely couldn’t afford. I didn’t care. I felt fantastic.

The end of the shift arrived before I knew it. The team gathered yet again. My heart, for some reason, was pounding with anticipation, not dread.

Harrison held up the tablet, reading off review after review. “And… here’s another one. From a… Tyler94. For Quinn.”

He took a deep breath.

“‘Five out of five stars on everything! Ten stars! A hundred stars! Quinn is the perfect employee! Hands down the best customer service experience of my life! She’s beautiful, she’s fun, she’s so friendly and helpful, and she even gave me her number! Whatever you’re paying her, it’s not enough! She is an absolute goddess!’”

He stared at the screen, then at me.

A sound bubbled out of my chest. A genuine, unrestrained giggle of pure delight. “Yayyy!” I cheered, clapping my hands together and bouncing with glee. “I knew he liked me!”

Cody stared at me, grinning as my chest gradually stopped jiggling. Harrison just looked awkwardly bemused.

I stood there, beaming, as Mr. H continued reading off more and more comments from the tablet, waiting for the familiar, sinking feeling of the impending reset. One second passed. Then ten. Then a full minute. The clock on the wall kept ticking forward. Nothing happened.

Of course. There was no negative feedback this time. There was nothing to correct. The system had achieved its goal. It had sculpted me, sanded me down, and polished me into the perfect, five-star employee.

The old Quinn was gone. Completely. I didn’t miss her. In fact, I could barely remember what it felt like to be her. All I felt was the warm, pleasant glow of validation.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A new text.

Unknown number: Hey it’s Tyler ;) Drinks tonight?

I smiled, a wide, bright, perfect smile, and began to type my reply.