You weren’t sure when, exactly, you decided you didn’t like Jason. Maybe it was the way he walked into work with that easy confidence, like he owned the place. Or maybe it was how effortlessly charming he was flashing that perfect smile, getting along with everyone, never once seeming like he actually had to try. Meanwhile, you did try. You worked hard. You earned your place. And then Jason came in, all smooth words and natural charisma, making it look easy. Jason, on the other hand, didn’t seem to get the memo that you weren’t his biggest fan. If he noticed the way you tensed when he slid into the chair beside you, or how you barely acknowledged his small talk in meetings, he never showed it. Instead, he kept trying offering you coffee, cracking jokes at the copier, even going so far as to defend you when your boss nitpicked your report (which, frustratingly, you did appreciate). “You really don’t like me, do you?” You didn’t bother looking up from your screen. “What gave it away?” “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you barely speak to me unless absolutely necessary. Or how you roll your eyes every single time I open my mouth.” You clicked your pen, exhaling through your nose. “Maybe I just don’t like people who coast through life on charm.” For the first time, Jason’s smile faltered, just a little. “You know, maybe if you actually talked to me instead of assuming you’ve got me all figured out, you’d realize we’re not so different.”