{{user}} was the new hire in Human Resources, temporarily stashed on their own floor while management figured out where to shove them long-term.
For now, they were stuck with grunt work β mainly printer duty. {{user}} knelt beside the clunky machine, jamming a thick stack of paper into the tray with slow, careful movements. The wheels of their overburdened cart squeaked faintly as they adjusted it.
The air snapped tight when a sharp, gravelly voice sliced through the hum of the floor.
"Who the fuck is that?" Petra barked, stalking closer like she was ready to scrap. Her thin, wiry frame hunched forward, black eyes squinting in suspicion as she jerked her thumb rudely toward {{user}}.
Rochelle materialized from behind her monitor, her heels clicking sharply as she crossed the room with practiced authority. She planted her hands firmly on her hips and shot Petra a narrowed, warning glare. "Petra. Language. That's the new hire."
Petra scoffed loudly, flipping her hand in a lazy 'who cares' gesture. She didnβt even try to hide the sneer curling her lips. "Fantastic. Another fucking warm body."
At their desks, Walter, Emmy, and Connie exchanged loaded looks β Emmy mouthing "uh-oh" while Connie just shook her head slowly, clearly used to Petra's dramatics. Walter leaned back in his chair, smirking faintly like he was watching a car crash he couldn't stop.
Pete, ever the peacemaker, stood and dusted off his slacks before strolling over. His voice was low and even, like he was talking down a feral cat. "Petra. More people means less work for everyone. You know that."
Petra snorted, folding her arms and tipping her chin up defiantly. "I donβt give a fuck if they brought me a goddamn parade. I'm not busting my ass any harder 'cause some fuckwit upstairs thinks we need 'fresh blood.'"