"We've made changes behind the scenes; persuading our investors, revamping the production line, forming new partnerships. Now it's about presenting the new GreenGlass to the customer."

I advanced the slide, secretly hoping that my amazing Powerpoint animation skills were impressing the rest of the room. They sure looked good to me. "Our newest line of desktop computers and laptops, the GGlass Nexus series, will soon be installed in one of Aurora's libraries, and hopefully be making their way into other households. My marketing team has been working on a plan to advertise locally in Aurora. At GreenGlass, we value quality, environment-friendly technology, and providing families with the key to the future. We also want Auroran residents, and the rest of the country to know GreenGlass is reliable. Without further ado, here are our potential logos and slogans going forward."

—

The elevator door chimed open, and I speed-walked down the hallway. My heels clicked merrily against the floor. A standing ovation certainly boosted one's ego, and my back appreciated my proper posture.

"Hang in there, kiddo," Marcus talked into his phone. He spun around, facing me while still walking backwards without tripping. "Nora! Charlie threw up at school. Could I pass on today's tasks to you? I just have some offers a few advertising agencies sent us, but I haven't had time to look over them."

"Sure. See you tomorrow," I called back. Marcus smiled in relief before bumping into one of my colleagues. That was what you got for walking backwards. If my boss was any less sincere or forgiving, I would've cold-shouldered him for that other day. But Marcus wasn't half bad. I just wished he had the backbone to speak up sometimes.

I reached the door marked Marketing Lounge and pushed the handle. Danielle, Tomas and Alek looked up from the planning table. The first thing I noticed was the scent of fresh pastries. They took up half of the round table.

"Danielle, again?" I laughed. "I was kidding when I said I could use more, you know."

"Yeah, well, we wanted to celebrate! We heard the applause all the way from here," Danielle remarked, passing me a plate of baked deliciousness. The pastries' fragrant scent was so delicate, I couldn't resist nibbling on one. Banana, coconut, and...cinnamon? This was good. I'll save the rest for later, I promised myself.

I joined the rest of the team. Danielle badgered me for details on the meeting. Tomas typed gibberish into his phone and let autocorrect do its magic, never looking down as he overrode our conversation. Alek focused on his laptop while occasionally chiming in.

"But the real question is, what are they going to order for the annual party? GreenGlass is great and all, but pizza gets boring after a time," Danielle sighed dramatically.

"It's not an actual celebration," Alek deadpanned, pausing to look up. "Everyone is either happy or miserable, and that's dependent on their raise."

"That's not true!" I said.

"Completely true," Tomas countered. I crossed my arms. "Now, if they could give us free gaming laptops so my kid could play his Minecraft in peace—"

"—And they could cook something for once—" Danielle said.

"Then I might not skip this year's get-together," Alek finished.

I half-frowned, half-smiled. "You guys are impossible. I won't complain if there was fried rice, though. Anything different to celebrate the Timberline library's opening."

"Are book-shaped cookies too boring?" Danielle asked. "No, wait, you've been inhaling my banana bread. I'll make a note of that."

As chaotic as it seemed, GreenGlass was the perfect place to relax. To sink my teeth in a different environment. It had intimidated me as a research assistant. Some of the poster boards, mock ups, and papers scattered around the room were from my first ever projects. College was fine, but work was where I found fulfillment. Plus, there were perks that came as a marketing manager of a successful enterprise. We were lucky that GreenGlass could spoil its employees with generous work space. Our past projects gave us plenty of new ideas while reminding us of our accomplishments.

I shouldn't be feeling so tense. We had cleared the biggest hurdle. Now it was about the creative aspect. Finish the regional advertisements, and play around with the Aurora project, which we'd already been granted complete control over.

But then Marcus broke the news. The higher-ups had cut the GGlass Nexus' release time in half. That left us with two weeks to scrape something together. Of course, I had been the one to propose the local Aurora project. It was voluntary, Marcus reminded me, in a tone that implied I could withdraw my proposal without judgement. But this was my first independent decision as a marketing manager. The town was buying our technology for its public library. It only made sense to create a small but dedicated marketing plan for it, and I had promised it'd improve sales.

Backing out was not an option. I knew our capabilities. I'd worked countless hours with this team to expand our strengths and test our limits. A simple time crunch paled in comparison to the past obstacles we've faced. Some solutions didn't come as black and white, but at work, everything funneled into a single possibility. The answer was clear: We were going to push forward.

And judging by my team's scrutinizing expressions, they were thinking the same thing.

"So? What are your ideas?" I asked. I shuffled through the papers on the table. "I think the best course of action is divide and conquer. It'd be different from how we usually work. I admit the results won't be as polished or cohesive, but that's all the more reason why we should start planning, right? Guys?"

They glanced at each other. I raised an eyebrow. Danielle wordlessly opened up her laptop. I leaned in as she clicked through the polished flyers, slogans, Instagram posts and even the TV ad that was planned to be watched across the country. There were also detailed outlines for the Aurora project. We'd only briefly brainstormed of ideas before, but the mock-ups here spoke of days of work and thought. Danielle's music, Alek's crisp animation and Tomas's calculated choices behind the designs...it was all here.

"Wow," I managed.

Tomas said, "We were sold on your idea. I'd admit I got ahead of myself and did a lot without checking with you first—"

"Then she would have stopped us," Alek interrupted. "No offense, Nora. But Tomas and I wanted to jump into the water, so to speak. As for Danielle..."

"I wanted it to be a surprise. I know you hate surprises, but I could tell, okay? You have a lot on your plate. I wanted to help." Danielle smiled a bit, worry creeping into her eyes.

"So?" Alek said. "What's the ruling?"

It was quite the feeling to hold something that I'd imagined to be mine, but wasn't at all. My ideas for the musical jingle, the color scheme, and even the town's welcoming atmosphere had all been brought to life. The hardest challenge in marketing was making the customer feel the things we wanted them to feel. I wanted to instill the feeling of community and closeness I felt when I first moved to Aurora. And using their brilliant skill sets, Danielle, Tomas and Alek made that happen. I couldn't believe all of this had happened under my nose.

On an objective scale, it was excellent. Anyone looking from the outside would be struck with a positive impression of GreenGlass.

"Yeah. Yeah, it looks all good. I'm speechless," I said, a little laugh escaping me.

"But?" Danielle asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing. It's...a nice surprise. You sweated blood into this."

Danielle tilted her head. "Nora, you're a good marketing manager. We wouldn't have done so much without you. We just wanted to lighten the load, you know?"

"It wasn't a rash decision," added Alek. His hawk like eyes met mine with glacial neutrality. "I planned it all to the last pixel, but we made it flexible. If we don't use some of our assets this time around, we can easily transfer them to a later project."

"This might not have been the best idea, now I'm thinking about it, " Tomas muttered.

"Tomas!" Danielle and Alek said.

"It's fine, guys! No need to shoot the messenger," I sighed finally, waving my hand. "I just would've liked a heads-up, but it's a nice surprise."

Blinking away from the expertly compiled project, I deliberated on how to proceed.

Everything was simpler back when I had started as a researcher. It didn't matter if the black and white data translated to something with nuance; my job was to gather, not taking action. But I also wanted to call my own shots. I climbed up the ladder. I gained control. But even in the measured setting of work, control wasn't always possible. It could change hands. And when control was taken from me with my best interests in mind, it felt like everything I'd worked to build was crumbling away.

It was way too late in my life to have a career crisis. Marketing used research, data, knowledge of the human psyche and the way we interacted with the world to communicate our message. I had the hubris to believe I could do things differently. Better. Help families instead of tearing them apart, even if others claimed that was impossible. But compared to my team, all of my previous work had lacked a certain quality of passion. I had thought combining personal investment with my work would remedy this problem. Now it polarized the two sides of my life.

The worst part? My next words could make or break the special rapport I'd formed with my co-workers.

One mess-up would ruin everything. Just like with Tai, my parents, and others down the line.

"When I say this, I mean it in the least personal way," I started slowly. Funny how the stage pressure triples when you're justifying yourself in front of your closest colleagues. "On an objective scale, you guys did way better than I could have. Actually, it was ridiculous how similar it looked compared to what I came up with. Not in appearance, obviously," I said in response to Tomas' slight huff, "but the mood. The tone. The way it's supposed to feel, you know? I didn't think that could have happened. I got attached. I guess I downplayed It, but it was the one thing I felt I could do...adequately."

Goodness, my throat was parched. Two presentations in one day really took a toll on my voice. I unscrewed my water bottle and took a sip.

"That came out of left field," said Tomas.

Danielle rolled her eyes. "You're so thick! The important thing is that she was honest and open to us. But Nora, you look like you need to puke..."

"I'm good. Really."

"If you say so," Alek replied. "And here I was afraid Danielle gave us food poisoning."

"Hey!"

I forced a laugh. That...was actually funny. For Alek. There was nothing more distasteful than breaking the professional code at work. We had fun, sure, but I was sure I crossed a personal boundary. No one acted differently, though.

Work flowed surprisingly smoothly after that. There were the awkward glances from Danielle that should telepathically make me feel better. They didn't. But I was glad to have such a proactive team. We forgot about the odd incident and got down to business. Together, we decided to consider the Aurora project as finished. From their work I drew inspiration for our main marketing approach. Their concerns also freed up our time to wrap up some bite-sized projects. The small stuff had gone stale on the side thanks to the sudden work surge. Granted, we were still busy. Marketing for this GGlass Nexus series wasn't a Herculean task, but there was a lot of local pressure on this project. Everything needed to be on point. All the more reason to do it.

Why did I choose marketing? People judged by what they saw. Decisions were based on those assumptions, and the ripple effects made those assumptions reality. Marketing taught me a great deal of this—in an environment separate from my personal life.

I couldn't control or change what people saw in me. I couldn't erase what I saw in other people, either through my Unlocking ability or otherwise. But if I could make something detached from myself, and have it be taken as what it was, then that was enough. It had to be.

—

I watched R unfold my card. Her eyes scanned down the written words and onto the picture of her.

"You made this?" she gasped.

I ducked my head, worried that other classmates would notice us. R looked at me through her thick-framed glasses. "How did you know?"

"Know...?"

She pointed at my intricate drawing. "You drew me in a blue sweater. And I have a single braid instead of two. My shoes are high-tops. Hold on, you even have my bike here!" She squinted at me suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why what? I just thought you'd like it." R was prettier in the clothes she wore outside of school, anyway.

But it took me days to get the shading and proportions right—anatomy was a nightmare—and now R was staring at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Happy birthday, R." The words came out in a rush, and I turned away.

"Wait!" She grabbed my arm before I could scurry back to my desk. "This is really nice, Nora. Thanks. Um, can I ask you something?"

R glanced furtively around the classroom. She motioned me to follow her to the reading area. Here we had privacy. My heart galloped. Did she think I was weird? Was R mad that I barely met up with her anymore? I couldn't risk flipping Mom's lid though; that woman had been keeping a close eye on me nowadays.

Then my brain thought of the less likely possibility: Did R like me? She'd complimented my copper-brown hair, joked that she'd trade her dark locks for mine. Then again, I didn't see what was so pretty about it. R was way more attractive on a technical scale.

Just like she read my mind, R asked, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

My face flushed beet red.

R didn't seem to notice. She traced the outline of her 2D self on her birthday card. "I like your picture of me, I do. You're a great artist. Like Van Gogh." Van Gogh was a painter, but okay. "It's just...you know, I celebrated my birthday last week. Everyone loved my dress. But if I wore this," she gestured to my drawing, then bit her lip. "People don't say that."

Her voice ended on a funny high note, like she was pretending to be happy. Or was she asking a question? R looked up to me pleadingly. "What do you think?"

Confused, I said, "You don't like being called pretty?" Mom would blush and hum for hours if someone told her the same.

R thought about it, then shook her head. "Sorry Nora, nevermind. Thanks for the birthday card. Hey, when is yours?"

But I'd already returned to my seat. Lunch time ended, and the teacher taught us about thinking critically in literature. I flipped my thoughts over and over like burnt pancakes. I had to think deeper than the surface. Why exactly did I like R so much? She was nice, but so were my other friends. Shows and movies had described the feeling as something special, inexplicable, and that the reason didn't matter as long as it was real. But what if it wasn't like that? Did I like her because I thought she looked attractive? Was that wrong? Why would that make her uncomfortable?

The next day, I asked my parents why they married each other. I was surprised to see Dad peck Mom's cheek. "When I met her, I knew."

"But how?" I asked skeptically.

A smile flickered to his face. It was like watching a magic show. "She had a kind of energy that told me, I had to marry her."

"It was pure luck your father spotted me at prom," Mom remarked. "I was wearing my finest that night. One day you'll understand, Nora. It's not love at first sight, but you can tell an awful lot by how someone carries himself."

I huffed. "That's not a straight answer."

They laughed. "Since when is it ever?" Mom said.