The corporate party

After Anna , I didn’t look for anyone else for a while. Our relationship slowly and quietly fizzled out, and I didn’t push it, either. Everyday life went on: work at the magazine, the occasional small photo shoot, boring evenings at home.

On a rainy October evening, however, everything changed. I was driving home when a black luxury car in front of me lost control on the wet road and crashed violently into another vehicle. I pulled over, got out, and took out my phone to call an ambulance. But what I saw completely paralyzed me. A high-ranking government official got out of the luxury car — I recognized his face from the newspapers. He walked over to the driver of the other car, who was still alive but had suffered serious injuries. The man bent down to him, said something, then picked up a sharp, jagged piece of metal from the wrecked car and, in a single, swift motion, slit the victim’s throat. Blood began to gush out immediately. I filmed everything—with trembling hands, but without stopping.

I posted the footage that very evening. By the next morning, the whole country was talking about it. The official was arrested, and the scandal became massive. Our newspaper’s circulation skyrocketed. Three months later, I received the award for best investigative documentary photographer of the year. My workplace organized a special celebration in my honor. It was a big party, with an open bar, music, lots of colleagues, and a few guests from outside the company. I just stood in a corner with a drink, feeling a little awkward with all the attention.

That’s when I saw her.

Livia was one of the magazine’s newest stars. She joined us last year after transferring from a major online lifestyle platform. Formally, she worked on the “Social Media & Brand Content” team, but, in practice, she became one of the magazine’s most prominent faces. She created the most viral videos, organized the most daring photo shoots, and it was her Instagram Stories that caused our younger readership to grow explosively. Everyone at the magazine referred to her as “the red-haired bombshell.” Tall, with long, reddish-blonde hair, a confident stride, and a kind of natural charm that was hard to miss. Everyone was swarming around her that evening, too.

Men and women alike tried to strike up a conversation with her, joked around, and brought her drinks. She, however, politely but firmly brushed them off, one after another. I saw her scan the room, then her gaze settle on me. She started walking toward me. The crowd practically parted before her.

“So, you’re the one everyone’s celebrating tonight,” she said when she reached me. Her voice was warm, a little hoarse. “I’m Livia. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, but somehow, we always seemed to miss each other at the office.”

She held out her hand, and when I shook it, she didn’t let go for a moment.

“Congratulations on the award,” she continued, stepping a little closer. “To be honest ... you did a fucking great job. Not many people would have dared to post that video.”

She smiled, tilted her head to the side, and looked at me, as if the two of us were already the only ones in the room.

“So ... what are you drinking? Because I think we really need to celebrate this.”

I shrugged and looked down for a moment before speaking.

“Don’t even mention it. The sight of blood makes me sick. I almost fainted right there at the scene; I could barely hold onto the phone. I still don’t understand how I managed to record the whole thing, and then get away before he noticed me. It’s a miracle I didn’t cause an accident on my way home. His car was totaled, so he couldn’t come after me. I knew he’d track me down using the license plate, so I had to post the video right away. So ... I’m no hero. I was just a coward who was afraid for my own life. I haven’t watched the video since. Just thinking about what I saw there still makes me feel dizzy.”

Livia just stared at me for a long moment. She was clearly surprised. Her eyebrows arched slightly, and her lips parted a little as if she hadn’t expected that answer. Finally, she chuckled softly, but not mockingly—more out of genuine surprise.

“Wow ... I really didn’t expect that,” she said, tilting her head slightly to the side. “The whole office is full of cocky jerks who are all competing to see who was even braver than you. And here you are, admitting that you almost cracked and just wanted to save your own skin.”

She smiled more warmly this time and took half a step closer. “You know ... That makes you a lot more interesting than I thought. Not because of the prize. But because you’re not trying to look like a hero.”

We moved to a quieter corner, where there was a high table. We sat down. Livia just looked at me for a moment, then asked:

“And there, at the scene ... what exactly did you feel when you realized what he was doing? Weren’t you afraid he’d notice you?”

I shrugged.

“Of course I was afraid. Terrified. I was holding the phone with shaking hands and trying to get as far away as possible. I don’t even know how I didn’t throw up right there, on the spot. Afterward, I ran home, because I knew he could easily find me if he wanted to. That’s why I had to upload the recording right away. It wasn’t some heroic act ... I was just terrified.”

Livia was silent for a moment, processing what she’d heard, then smiled slightly.

“And after that? Was there anyone you could talk this over with? Your wife ... or your girlfriend?”

I paused for a moment, then answered quietly.

“I didn’t have anyone at the time. I’d just broken up with someone. It didn’t work out.”

I didn’t say anything more about Anna. Livia nodded; she didn’t press the subject. She just looked at me with that curious, slightly surprised expression.

“Interesting,” she said finally. “Everyone else here tonight is trying to make themselves look bigger, bigger than you. And here you are, admitting that you were scared and just wanted to save your own skin. You know ... um...”

Veronika, Livia’s immediate supervisor, came over to the desk and smiled warmly at me.

“Congratulations again on the award,” she said warmly. “We’re all very proud of you here at the editorial office. You’re a true role model.”

Then she turned to Livia; her smile remained friendly, but her eyes took on a slightly sharper edge.

“Livia, you sure found tonight’s guest of honor quickly. You’ve always had a good eye for that sort of thing.”

Livia smiled back calmly, clearly handling the situation like a pro.

“We were just chatting. My coworkers have already told me way too many made-up hero stories tonight. At least this one actually happened.”

Veronika nodded, then turned back to me and tilted her head slightly to the side.

“And how are you handling all this sudden attention? Because I don’t think you really know what’s going on around you yet, do you?”

I was a little flustered. I didn’t understand exactly what she was talking about; I just sensed some tension in the air between the two women.

“Well ... I’m trying to process it,” I replied cautiously.

Veronika laughed kindly.

“You’re sweet. Don’t let Livia completely sweep you off your feet tonight. She’s just ... so intense.”

Livia didn’t lose her composure for a moment. She took a sip from her glass with a smile and replied casually:

“Don’t worry, Boss. I’m not sweeping anyone off their feet. We’re just talking.”

Veronika looked at us for another moment, then nodded elegantly.

“Then I won’t bother you any longer. Have a good time.”

She left, but her smile wasn’t quite as sincere as it had seemed. After a while, the room fell silent. The editor-in-chief, a man in his sixties with gray hair who had been running the magazine for more than twenty years, stepped up to the podium. Holding a glass of champagne, he looked around with a serious expression.

“Dear colleagues, my friends. Tonight, we are not just celebrating an award. Tonight, we are celebrating an act of courage. Everyone knows why we have gathered here. Three months ago, one of our colleagues, who is sitting here among us, witnessed something that most of us would have preferred not to see. A high-ranking, influential official—who had been poisoning this city for years—cold-bloodedly killed the other driver after a traffic accident, so there would be no witness. He was corrupt, arrogant, and had ruined countless lives over the years. Many of us have suffered personally because of his actions.

And then, this young man—who is sitting here now, visibly flustered by all the attention—didn’t look away. He recorded it. Not as a hero, not posing for the cameras, but with trembling hands, dizzy from the sight of blood. Then, he went home and posted it online. Because he knew that, if he didn’t, there would never be justice. Thanks to this, a dangerous, corrupt man was put in prison. The city finally breathed a sigh of relief. Our newspaper’s readership skyrocketed because people finally believed that there was still someone who refused to remain silent. That’s why we’re gathered here today. Not just for an award. But to thank him for having the courage to act when most people would have preferred to look the other way.”

Applause broke out in the room. Loud, prolonged applause. Some people stood up. I just sat there, feeling my face burn. My throat tightened. I hadn’t expected this speech. I didn’t feel like a hero—in fact, I still felt more like a coward. But the words touched me nonetheless. The fact that the whole town had breathed a sigh of relief ... That I’d actually helped with something ... It was a strange, heavy feeling. Like Anna’s transformation ... I hadn’t wanted that, either ... I stared at my glass, overwhelmed, and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Just then, Livia, who had been sitting next to me, moved a little closer. I felt her thigh brush against mine. Then, gently but firmly, she placed her hand on mine and squeezed it lightly. Her touch was warm. She didn’t say a word, just kept her hand on mine while the applause continued. The boss added: “Thank you for not staying silent.” And with that, he looked at me and raised his glass. The whole room clinked glasses with me. Livia’s hand remained on mine. She didn’t let go. The applause slowly died down, and the principal looked at me. He smiled, raised his glass, and simply said: “And now, let’s hear from him.”

The room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at me. I felt my stomach clench. Damn. I wasn’t ready for this. Not at all. Livia was sitting next to me. When I stood up, she whispered softly, almost exclusively to me: “Just say what you feel. Nothing more.” Her hand squeezed mine briefly under the table, then let go. Her touch helped, in a strange way. Not much, but at least I wasn’t shaking as much when I walked up to the podium. There I stood, in front of the microphone. The lights were blazing. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were staring at me. I cleared my throat and felt it was completely dry.

“Um ... Hi, everyone,” I began, and immediately felt like I was messing up. “I didn’t prepare a speech. Actually ... I still don’t really know what I’m doing here.” I paused for a moment. The room was silent. “I’m no hero. Seriously. I’m just a techie who loves metal music and laid-back evenings. That night, I was on my way home when I saw an accident. That’s all. I recorded it because ... Because I had to. Because, if I hadn’t, that bastard would’ve gotten away with it. Because the man he killed ... deserved to live. To testify. So that justice could be served.”

I took a deep breath. “I didn’t do it because I’m brave. I did it because I was afraid. I was afraid that, if I didn’t do anything, this system—which has always protected people like that—would continue to protect them. And I ... I’m just an ordinary person. I didn’t want to be a hero. I just wanted to make sure they didn’t get away with it this time.” My voice trembled a little, but I continued.

“So, thank you for the award, but it doesn’t really belong to me. It belongs to the man who died, and to everyone who has suffered at the hands of this man. I hope that now ... things will be a little better.”

I fell silent. I didn’t know what else to say. I just stood there, feeling awkward. Then, they began to clap. At first, just a few people, then the whole room. A loud, sustained round of applause. Livia was standing in the front row, and she was clapping the loudest, smiling and looking straight at me. I walked down from the stage. My legs were shaking. Livia stepped up to me and, without anyone noticing, gently touched my back.

“You did well,” she whispered softly, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. As soon as I stepped off the stage, they immediately surrounded me. It was as if they’d been waiting for this.

“Finally!” one of the marketing guys shouted at me, already shoving a beer into my hand. “Come on, let’s have a drink, hero!” Another colleague, someone I’d sometimes chat with about metal in the kitchen, pushed his way over. “Damn, are you really into metal? I saw your T-shirt once. So, are you more of a Slayer guy, or into modern stuff?”

Before I could answer, two women approached. One of them, from the design team, smiled sweetly, but her eyes kept darting toward Livia.

“That was a really nice speech,” she said to me, but there was a slightly sharp edge to her voice. “Livia’s already completely monopolized you, huh?”

Livia stood next to me, casually holding my arm, and smiled faintly. She didn’t answer right away; she just moved a little closer to me. The other woman, who worked in the editorial office, interjected even more bluntly:

“Livia, you sure don’t waste any time. The guy barely received his award, and you’re already right there beside him.”

Livia replied kindly but firmly, her hand still resting on my arm:

“I’m just congratulating him, like everyone else. Relax, I don’t bite.”

Meanwhile, more people joined us. Someone patted me on the back, someone asked about the technical details of the recording, and a third person simply said: “You really gave that bastard a run for his money. The whole town is celebrating because of you.”