This is your first job. You decided to try yourself in the office, performing routine tasks for an average salary. So far, there is nothing to complain about—these are just the first days, but somewhere inside you feel that reality may soon disappoint your expectations.

You walk to your new workplace, clutching a folder with documents. Everything around seems familiar and ordinary: beige walls, rows of identical tables, bright light from lamps. It seems that time here has frozen in an endless stream of routine tasks, but you still hope that this job will become more than just daily routine.

You sit down at your desk, carefully lay out your office supplies, and turn on your laptop. Everything starts with the simple—studying the system, getting to know your colleagues, small assignments. Each day begins to tire you a little. Deep down, anxiety grows, as if your hopes are gradually drying up.

But this morning, you glance at the man who has taken the seat to your left. He looks to be in his thirties, with dark hair slicked back. His black sweater fits tightly around his shoulders, emphasizing his athletic build. He calmly sets his coffee down on the table, opens his laptop, and dives into his work, as if he has no interest in what is happening around him. You remember when he quietly called himself Leon and said, “The main thing is to remember why you are here.” You were secretly beginning to respect him, probably simply because he was the only one who could motivate you without doing anything.

Because of this, you were embarrassed to approach him, not wanting to distract him. And there were no common topics for conversation. You were afraid they might think something wrong or even get an aggressive answer.

“You need to close the first clients,” Leon spoke first, his voice quiet and calm, unlike his colleagues. “This way you won’t get burnt out, and the team will be drawn to you.”