Resignation of Bien

Rooftop Pizza

The radio in the admin area of Sing FM played at a low volume, yet it was still audible. Bien had been controlling his breath since his arrival as he scrolled through their social media. Joanna stood behind him, looking gorgeous with her lightly tinted glasses, white blouse tucked into slacks, and five-inch heels, sipping coffee from her pink cup.

"This is ridiculous!" Bien whined. "Look at this! Susan refuses to name her news articles! It's hard enough already to produce miracles with the pixelated photos she's sending for the news card! Does she expect me to write her name every time before I post it on social media?"

Bien typed her name on the article, in all caps and bolded. A few seconds later, Susan sent an enraged message in the group chat, complaining about how she had told Bien repeatedly not to include her name in that manner again.

Like an angry keyboard warrior, Bien never thought he could type that fast. He argued with Susan over the news team group chat about how unprofessional she was. But she had the audacity to argue back.

"Lady, I don't care if you're older than me, you're causing damage to the name of the station," Bien hissed in front of his screen as he typed rapidly.

Including your name in the article wasn't that difficult—just type it in! Bien couldn't understand why Susan refused to do so. Maybe she was afraid of being called out as a plagiarist. She did take an unethical path by consistently rewriting articles from other reporters. But Bien believed in accountability. Your article, your responsibility. It wasn't just about accountability, but also transparency, ethical standards, and professionalism.

Bien confronted her with all these points, but it felt like arguing with someone who wouldn't know ethics if it hit them in the face.

"That's not just my issue with her since she began writing for the news team for the morning news," Joanna commented in a you-know-what tone. "A lot of times, the headline and the content do not match. There are far too many typos, causing delays and misreads on air. We're becoming a laughing stock because of it."

"And this bitch keeps justifying her unethical journalism! This is substandard! This is stupid!" Bien typed rapidly again, sending a warning shot to Susan, an edited news card where he included her photo as the author of the article. He whispered, "Don't test my patience, lady. I'm not playing with you. The next time you don't include your name, I'll put your photo on the news card."

"Nice touch!" Joanna jested.

Susan got even angrier. Then, her knight in shining armor, Sir Vil, joined the conversation, defending the unethical journalism, a virus that would damage Sing FM big time if not addressed.

The boss's office opened, and his son, Aron, rushed out with a duffle bag on his shoulder. He was in simple white tees and a gray knitted bonnet.

"Play nice," he said, pointing at Bien. "Calm down."

"She's gonna keep doing that if no one speaks up," Bien replied, still focused on his screen.

"We'll have a meeting about the SOP about that. In the meantime, cut her some slack. We're still in the soft launch phase."

Bien rolled his eyes. "You know I won't settle for less."

Aron sighed and shook his head as though he knew convincing Bien would lead to no avail. Aron turned around and waved behind. "I'm going," he announced.

It was as though war had started and factions were born. Bien was holding the line with Joanna at his side as they tried to gun down every substandard output by their colleagues who refused to meet the standards they should hit. It started the night Matthew drove him home. He opened his social media, and the overlays of Sir Vil's show were, once again, changed. And it wasn't a good change.