Resignation of Bien

I Love My Job

It was past five, and the sun was nearly gone. Finally, Bien sent the email. It was the graphics he had spent the entire day editing.

"I love my job," he whispered repeatedly with a sigh as though consoling himself. He couldn't help but smile as he watched his email successfully delivered. He knew no one else could do the things he could and it made him feel important.

"It's the only job you have," Joanna teased, her smile revealing her crooked teeth. She often felt insecure about her teeth, double chin, and height, but Bien didn't mind. She was nice, and that was what mattered.

"You know what you need?" Joanna dropped a pack of bond paper on her pink table, placing her hand on her hip. "A date. Someone to help you unwind after work."

Bien swiveled his swiveling chair to face her, the light from the 100.7 Sing FM sign bounced off his glasses.

"I'm practically chained in this chair. How am I supposed to find someone?"

"Or maybe you two should date," Lucas interjected, descending the main stairway with an air of nonchalance. Tall and thin, he wore his sunglasses indoors like a declaration.

Joanna rolled her eyes. "Nobody asked you."

"No, seriously," Lucas continued, filling his tumbler at the water dispenser. "You two are practically inseparable. What do they call it? Husband and work wife? You're always together, finishing each other's sentences. And remember, Bien insisted that if the company wanted him, they had to take you too. You'd be a perfect match."

Bien and Joanna exchanged a glance and burst into laughter in unison.

Bien blinked prettily at Lucas. "How could I do that when my heart belongs to you?"

"You're messing with me again, Direct!" Lucas retorted, darting back up the stairs. He always referred to Bien as "Direct," seeing him as the director since their early days at the station.

"You really need a love life, my friend," Joanna chuckled. "You can't fall for that witless wonder!"

"He's kinda cute, though," Bien mused.

Joanna squinted. "You need new glasses."

Joanna's phone beeped, interrupting their banter. She grabbed it from her pink table and quickly checked the screen, her eyes widening.

"Mr. George resigned!" she exclaimed.

"The head of marketing, Mr. George?" Bien raised an eyebrow. "Who told you?"

"The boss's driver," Joanna replied.

"You're on good terms with the boss's driver now?" Bien asked rhetorically. "Any idea why he resigned?"

Joanna shook her head. "Maybe something with the technical director? Sir Vil has a close relationship with the boss."

"You seem to know everything," Bien remarked.

Joanna flipped her hair with pride. "You know me!"

A message from the boss's son, Aron, heir to the Verceles Family, appeared on Bien's screen.

DON'T YOU WANNA CHANGE THE COLOR SCHEME? FATHER DOESN'T LIKE IT. I MEAN, IT'S GOOD FOR ME. BUT HE INSISTS.

If Bien was being honest, he wanted to tear the screen in half. The design was exactly what they had requested, and he had spent hours perfecting it. Graphics wasn't even his primary job. The audacity!

Bien shook his head and began typing.

COPY, SIR. I'LL CHANGE IT NOW...

Another message appeared, surprising Bien.

NO NEED TO RUSH. YOU CAN FINISH IT TOMORROW.

What? Was he supposed to dwell on this all night? No way. He had to finish it now, or he'd end up logging back in at midnight just to get it off his mind. He started typing again.

I'M STILL AT THE OFFICE ANYWAY. I'LL GO HOME AFTER THIS.

Aron sent a thumbs-up emoji, ending their conversation. Bien sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Revisions?" Joanna asked.

Bien nodded. "I'm definitely not paid enough for this."

He sighed heavily and stretched his arms. Glancing across the hall, he admired the empty room with the sign above that read "PROGRAM DIRECTOR."

Joanna noticed and tapped his shoulder. "Your hard work will pay off," she reassured him.

He hoped so. But first, he had to complete a task that wasn't even his to begin with.