Indeed, Maybe
by Sci-FiTy1972
Copyright© 2026 by Sci-FiTy1972
Fiction Story: In a single workday, two people navigate the same system from opposite sides of the screen. Roger is racing a spreadsheet, a cracked phone, and a clock that won’t negotiate. Chelsie is making her first solo hire while pressure pushes her toward the wrong kind of “vision.” Between filters, buzzwords, missed calls, and cold coffee, a quiet alignment forms. This isn’t a story about getting the job. It’s a story about being seen, and choosing accuracy over noise.
Tags: Fiction Workplace AI Generated
9:00 AM
Roger
Roger opened the spreadsheet before he opened the job board.
He told himself it was discipline. He didn’t trust mornings that started with hope. Numbers before noise. Reality before imagination. The sheet was already open from last night, cursor blinking in a cell that meant nothing and everything at the same time.
Runway: 11.3 weeks.
He recalculated it anyway. Not because it changed — but because watching the formula update made it feel negotiable. As if math could be persuaded. As if time might listen.
He adjusted nothing.
He stared at the number until it stopped feeling like time and started feeling like a verdict.
Then he closed it.
His phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up out of habit. The front camera caught the light just right, the thin crack running clean through it like a fault line.
Face ID failed.
He tilted the phone. Wiped the glass on his shirt. Tried again.
Failed.
He exhaled and typed in his passcode.
It wasn’t broken enough to replace. Just broken enough to be a problem.
He checked his email. Nothing new. The silence felt heavier than a rejection. At least a no was measurable.
Job board. Filters. Same ritual. Same search terms. Same narrow lane he’d been driving for weeks. It felt responsible. It felt smart. It felt like shrinking, but he didn’t have a better word for that yet.
He told himself, This is not fear. This is planning.
He hit refresh.
Chelsie
Chelsie opened the requisition before she opened her email.
Her name was on it.
Not under “cc.” Not under “assist.” Under Owner.
She sat with that for a second longer than she meant to.
First solo hire.
The job description was a block of bullet points that looked neutral until you’d read enough of them to hear the subtext. Fast. Visionary. Self-starter. Change agent. Words that pretended to be about creativity but were really about tolerance for instability.
Her manager’s email sat unopened in another tab. She didn’t need to read it to know what it said.
We need someone who can shake things up.
She clicked into the applicant pool.
Names populated the screen in clean rows. Green checks. Red flags. Automated confidence.
It felt strange how quickly people became data.
She leaned back in her chair and took a breath.
Then she started reviewing.
9:30 AM Roger
He tailored his resume for a role that fit so tightly it barely left room to breathe.
Deleted three postings that felt adjacent. Adjacent meant risk. Risk meant time. Time was the only thing he couldn’t manufacture.
His phone buzzed again.
Face ID failed.
He muttered under his breath, entered his passcode, and opened the message.
Another automated rejection. Polite. Efficient. Disposable.
He updated the spreadsheet.
Runway: 11.1 weeks.
Calibrating, he told himself.
Chelsie
The system sorted candidates faster than she could read them.
“Not Qualified.” “Not Qualified.” “Not Qualified.”
A coworker leaned over the divider. “First solo hire, right?”
Chelsie nodded.
“They really want a free thinker on this one,” he said. “Someone to shake up the process. Not another process person.”
She smiled politely.
Inside, she thought: This role isn’t about shaking things up. It’s about keeping them from shaking apart.
She moved one structured-looking resume into Hold.
10:15 AM Roger
He tried to log into a recruiter portal.
Face ID failed.
He laughed once — short and humorless.
Passcode. Again.
Even my phone doesn’t recognize me today.
He applied anyway.
Chelsie
Her manager’s email finally got opened.
Any strong disruptors in the pool yet?
Chelsie reread the word.
Disruptors.
She typed a response.
Deleted it.
Typed a safer one.
11:00 AM Roger
A career podcast played quietly while he scrolled.
A voice said, Urgency narrows vision. Opportunity often comes sideways.
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