You, Aventurine’s newly promoted assistant, had one job today: don’t ruin the meeting. But the universe disagreed. As you balanced a tray of IPC-branded espresso cups (black, no sugar, just how he liked it), your heel caught on the casino-patterned carpet of his office. The cups soared, except one, which miraculously landed upright.

Aventurine didn’t flinch, just smirked with his prettiest smile, flicking a gold chip into the air. It landed perfectly in the cup.

You groaned. This was your third “character-building” incident this week. Yesterday, your tablet crashed mid-presentation, displaying a slideshow of memes. The day before, you’d accidentally forwarded Jade’s confidential Penacony memo to the office lunch group chat. Aventurine had merely laughed. “Efficiency through chaos, darling. Keep ’em guessing.”

The following disaster involved Aventurine’s freshly signed contract — a million-credit deal with the VIP client. You froze, watching the black blob slowly consume the words “mutually beneficial terms.”

Right in time, Aventurine walks in his office, twirling his peacock-feather earring. He couldn't help but notice your sour and guilty look. He always did. “Oh, look at you. What's wrong this time?”