The company had a camera-on policy, so Jane smiled in case someone in the meeting was watching. It wasn’t a great smile, but at least it wasn’t a scream.
Chad was probably watching and taking notes so he could announce her mistakes to everyone. ‘Smile, Jane, you don’t look happy to be here.’ She squeezed her stress ball into a pancake.
Time for the next agenda item. This one was hers and she planned to fight for it, no matter how much she wanted to stay quiet. She cleared her throat, but before she could say a word, Chad began speaking.
“This one’s a no-go, so we’ll skip to the next.”
Sitting up in the kitchen chair she’d repurposed to her living-room workspace, Jane forced a smile back onto her face and spoke in the calmest voice she could muster. “I don’t agree. I think polling electronically would be bett——more efficient, rather than manually like we do now. I’ve researched options and can share the top two——”
“Don’t get defensive, Jane. That sounds like a bit of a nightmare.” Chad laughed. “We’re trying to solve problems, not create new ones.” His face was a smooth white oval beneath his carefully coiffed black hair. Of course he’d maxed out the camera correction functionality.
Sweat began pooling on Jane’s neck, but she had to try again. In the meeting video, her eyes looked like dark holes in her pale face.
“I agree, and I——”
“No way are we getting a new tool just for polls. It would be like opening Pandora’s Box. Everyone would want one for all their little projects. More trouble than it’s worth. You get it, right?”
He was done hearing her. Jane knew it, and the rest of the team knew it, too. Her throat was too tight to speak, so she nodded, pressing her lips together and pretending to focus. It would pass in a moment. It always did.
When the meeting finally ended, Jane slammed her laptop closed and scrubbed her face with both hands, letting the rough sobs she’d held back shake through her. She was an idiot. Why did she always try to convince him when she knew he wouldn’t listen? Better to smile and stay quiet than to make a fool of herself in front of the entire team. They were probably laughing at her right now.
Beneath her elbows, her desk trembled.
Oh shit.
Breathe. In and out, five times. Her Reddit support group’s strategy when it came to Chad. You’re in your own living room, safe and far away from him. Breathe.
It wasn’t working. As soon as she thought his name, her heart rate peaked again, thudding against her eardrums. Why did he make her feel this way? He was a decade younger, had no experience at all, and yet he had been handed this big position and leadership adored him.
He was a kiss-ass when it mattered, she guessed. Not with her. All he did with her was shoot her down and smile about it.
In and out.
Her jaw began to ache.
Maybe she deserved it. When he’d first started the job, he’d been more humble——pretended to be, at least——so when he’d cut her down, she’d smiled and forgiven it as a younger person’s mistake. Stupid, stupid. She should have said something right away.
As if she ever stood up for herself like that.
Jane got to her feet. She needed exercise, sunshine. Wasn’t that what people said was best for stress?
She pulled on her shoes, glancing in the hall mirror to tidy her hair, but wait, what was that? Leaning closer to the mirror, she studied her eyes. One was bright red: a blood vessel had burst. She hadn’t felt a thing.
Fear tiptoed up her throat.
Damn you, Chad.
Outside, the sky was a clear, endless blue. Jane took a shaky breath, focusing on the hint of bitter autumn as she tried to put Chad and the burst blood vessel out of her head. This was her favorite season, but she couldn’t enjoy it with his voice in her mind. Pandora’s box, my ass.
Next time, I’ll push harder.
The thought felt good, but it was a lie. How, exactly, could she push harder? She ground her boots into the gravel at the edge of the sidewalk. She offered ideas and he chose the ones he liked; that was how it worked, and pushing back wouldn’t change his mind. All it did was make her look exactly as desperate and powerless as she was.
What she should do was quit, but she’d been with the company for years and didn’t want to start over somewhere else. He should be the one to quit. He wouldn’t, of course.
Clenching her teeth and hating herself, she turned around and headed home. She had to get back to work.
Could you give it a once-over? You’re so good at that stuff, Jane’s coworker Sarana messaged. Jane didn’t know her well, but when their paths crossed, it made her happy. They were almost friends.
Sure. Send me the link, Jane messaged back. Thirsty and chilled from her brief foray outside, she made a quick cup of tea while she waited, keeping the kitchen door open to the living room so she wouldn’t miss Sarana’s reply.
A ding summoned her back. Jane clicked the shared Google Doc link and opened Sarana’s new blog, adding comments for where the language could be clearer, or to emphasize certain details about the functionality. She made a number of grammatical corrections, trying not to judge Sarana too harshly.
An hour later, Jane messaged Sarana to let her know she was done.
TY so much! Sarana replied immediately. Soon as Chad goes through it, I’ll get it on the website.
Chad.
Instantly, Jane began sweating. Her heartbeat rocketed, tightening her throat. Infuriating that his name was enough to affect her this way.
All good, she lied.
Jane kept an eye on the document as she continued with her regular work. Finally, Chad’s name appeared at the top. She watched his cursor move through the page. A comment bubble appeared, immediately beneath her first.
Disregard, he wrote.
She froze.
Another comment bubble appeared beneath Jane’s second edit.
Disregard.
Another, and another, and another, one beneath every single note she’d made.
Jane’s vision went black around the edges. Her tongue burned and she tasted blood as the room trembled around her.
Deep breaths, in and out.
When she could see again and the floor had settled, she went to the bathroom and rinsed her mouth out over and over, blood and spit swirling down the drain. Her mouth throbbed.
Back at her laptop, she opened her chat window and clicked on Sarana’s name. Have you seen my notes?
Looking now, Sarana replied, then, OMG. What is his problem?
He is such an asshole. Jane couldn’t hold the words back.
I’m so glad you said that, I thought it was just me! Sarana typed. He’s rude to my entire team.
Relief made Jane sway. Have you said anything?
No. Have you? Sarana asked.
I’m too nervous. HR protected the company, and Chad was a company darling.
A pause. Long enough that Jane started worrying she’d confided in the wrong person.
Finally: I should do what he says, Sarana wrote. I’m sorry.
Should she, though? Jane closed the chat window.
Chad was the head of product, not the grammar police. Technically, he could only direct Sarana about product details.
Jane kept the thoughts to herself.
That night, Jane opened her personal laptop and stared at it. Her mouth was still painful and her eye looked like shit. She needed to message her friends.
She’d met them a few months ago during a deep dive into Reddit, trying to understand how she’d killed her old laptop in a Chad-related fury. To her surprise, she’d discovered a group of people who had all experienced the same effects to varying degrees. After some tentative back and forths, they added her to their private sub-Reddit which they used as a kind of support group, helping talk each other down.
Jane’s fingers hesitated on the keys. She was the newest member of the group. If she told them about this latest slip, they might think she couldn’t control herself. She didn’t want that, even if it was true. They might call her high maintenance and cull her from the group.
She closed the laptop. She couldn’t risk losing them. A popped blood vessel and bit tongue wasn’t such a big deal.
Standing in a too-hot shower, she let the water scald her skin pink and boil away her tears.
She had three peaceful hours at work the next day before Chad’s name appeared in her chat.
Sweat broke out on her temples. She tried to ignore the chat alert, but she couldn’t resist clicking on his name.
His message popped up. Don’t bother testing the new Zoom feature, leadership wants it live ASAP so I’m approving it.
Anxiety shivered down her spine. Wait, I need to test it first. The approval deadline isn’t until end of today.
No need, came the reply. It’s done.
Jane spluttered at the screen. Her resolution from yesterday floated before her eyes: smile and stay quiet. Ignoring it, she put her fingers back on the keyboard. Chad, I need to test it before you approve it. It might be buggy.
Chad is typing, the screen read. Jane waited.
An eternity later, his message appeared. It’s too late. Don’t freak out.
Don’t freak out?
Jane got to her feet, her entire body tense. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that? This was his first job out of college, for fuck’s sake! She was a full-on adult with years on the job. She itched to reach through the computer and smack his smart-ass face.
A tiny part of her brain knew she should do the breathing exercise before something happened, but she didn’t care.
“Ugh!” she screamed out loud.
At the sound, her computer made a click and the screen went black. A tearing pain tore through her skull.
“Shit.” Nauseated, Jane ran to the kitchen and spat into the sink, rinsing her mouth out until the water ran clear. Her gums were an angry red, dotted with blood. Back at her desk, she put a hand on the laptop. It was hot.
They wouldn’t give her another computer for two more years, no matter what. That was the company policy, IT had told her last time. She powered the computer back up, holding her breath. Thank goodness, it still worked.
Tentatively massaging her jaw, she set a timer for three minutes and started the breathing exercise. She couldn’t lose control again.
The next morning was the product weekly Mteam call——led by Chad, of course——during which everyone on the team would give a brief update on their projects and any issues they needed help with.
Jane was in the middle of her update when Chad spoke up. “Wow, someone had too much coffee today. Chill out, Jane.” He laughed, and a few others joined in.
She’d been speaking normally, not even angry. “Ha ha,” she said, trying to ignore him. “So I wasn’t able to test the new Zoom feature—”
“Alright, moving on,” Chad interrupted, running a palm over his carefully-styled black hair. “Danny, what’s your status?”
Jane’s hands were shaking.
Keep it together. Breathe.
But she couldn’t. Breaking company policy, she turned off her meeting video and muted herself. Growling, her fingers in claws, she closed her eyes and howled.
“What the hell!” She heard Chad shout from the meeting. “My computer just shocked me, like, an electric shock.”
Abruptly calm, Jane turned her video and audio back on. “Are you okay?” Her voice was sweet and concerned.
Chad’s face in the tiny meeting window looked paler than usual, his eyes wide. “How did that happen?”
The other people in the meeting murmured confusion, and Jane mimicked them.
Inside, she was grinning.
The furious joy didn’t last. Guilt ate into her stomach, making her nauseous and dizzy for the rest of the day.
As soon work ended, Jane messaged her group. I got mad and shocked someone by accident. I keep getting mad.
She needed them to tell her that she wasn’t a bad person. Even if she did a bad thing. They could calm her down; it was the point of the group.
Too nervous to wait for a response at the computer, she went into the kitchen to make some ramen.
Ping!
So quick. She put down the kettle and ran back to the computer.
I’m shocked to hear that, 1h3x3 responded. They were a wry, dry-humored type, always quick with the rejoinder. Jane liked them.
Was it that guy at work? m1ch@ added.
I’m fine. He got a small shock. Jane licked her dry lips. She’d wanted to hurt him worse. She had to admit it, if only to herself.
He’s such a dick, 1h3x3 said. A shock might improve him. Kidding! Do the breathing thing.
Are you okay? m1ch@ asked. Any…symptoms?
I bit my tongue. And my eye got bloody. Thinking about Chad had Jane’s teeth creaking. She needed to go to the dentist soon.
Okay, could be worse, m1ch@ said.
1h3x3 is typing…
m1ch@ is typing…
Their messages appeared almost simultaneously.
Fuck that guy, 1h3x3 typed.
Fuck him, from m1ch@, but it isn’t safe to let go. You could get hurt. Do the breathing when you start getting mad. Make sure you eat. Be careful.
I know, Jane typed. I’ll try.
We’re here if you need us, 1h3x3 added.
Jane closed her laptop. How could she be careful? She hadn’t done it on purpose. It was Chad: his behavior made her body react this way, so didn’t he deserve to feel some of it thrown back at him? He treated everyone like shit and nobody did anything about it.
It had only been a small shock.
“Team, we have a special guest today,” Chad said from Jane’s computer, his voice grating like a fork dragged down a plate.
She lowered the volume and started the breathing exercises. Today, she vowed, she’d keep calm no matter what. No more bloody gums, no more red eyes. A mug of tea steamed on her desk, and she had pasta boiling on the stove. Today was going to go smoothly.
Chad continued, “Joni, our VP of Product, is joining us to discuss one thing, so we’ll start with that since her time is precious.”
“Thanks Chad,” Joni said. “Hi, team. I’ll be quick. I know you’re slammed, but we can’t let stuff like this happen. It makes all of us look unprofessional.”
“What happened?” someone asked.
Chad jumped in before Joni could reply. “Jane, listen, usually your work is stellar, but this was a big miss.”
“What was?” She’d retested and closed all the tickets she’d submitted. Nothing had passed her inspection until it worked perfectly.
Chad shook his head, so disappointed. “The Zoom feature, Jane. It corrupted all our production audio recordings and Zuri says it’ll take at least two days to fix. How did that get past you?” Chad sounded so honest in his confusion, Jane almost believed him.
“But that was the feature you told me not to test,” she said.
“Your job is to test new features. Isn’t that your job?” he asked.
“Yes, but——” Jane’s breathing sped up.
“And is this a new feature?”
Sweat prickled in her armpits. A ringing sound drowned out his voice. “Yes, but you——”
“Jane, I don’t need excuses,” the VP said. “The CEO brought it to me herself. I don’t like it when that happens. Do you understand?”
Jane nodded, her throat tight.
That absolute bastard. Seething, she clicked into their chat conversation, found the section where he’d said not to test the feature, and took a quick screenshot while he talked to the team. He sounded so honest: the earnest leader let down by his irresponsible staff.
Jane kicked herself. She should have tested the feature regardless of his instructions. She could have submitted her bug report even after he pushed it to prod. At least she’d have proof that she’d done her job.
As she turned back to her screen, Chad met her eyes in the meeting video. Fury spiked down Jane’s arms and into her fingertips.
“Aah!” Chad’s video went abruptly blank.
A sharp pain shot down her jaw and neck. Liquid filled her mouth. Gagging, she spat blood and saliva into her palm, but something else came with it. Jane stared down at it. A tooth. A canine. It was sharper than she’d expected, the pointy grey roots tipped in blood.
What the fuck?
“Chad?” Joni’s voice sounded tinny through the laptop speaker.
“What happened?” someone else asked.
Jane knew what had happened.
“I’m fine, I’m here,” came Chad’s confused voice. “My computer shocked me again, worse this time. I’m going to call IT.”
The meeting ended. Jane tried to breathe. The gap left by the tooth was cool, empty like a bottomless lake. She dug her tongue into it, relishing the feeling.
She’d shocked him again. Messed up his camera. And she’d felt something, a kind of tug in her center the moment it had happened. It ached in her solar plexus, almost like yearning.
Am I a monster? I shouldn’t want to hurt someone.
But she did. Badly.
The feeling in her center thrummed in agreement.
Lying in bed that night, Jane lifted her hands in the air and studied them. She flexed her fingers, then relaxed them, trying to figure out how she’d done it.
The thrum in her chest hadn’t faded. She focused on the moment she’d zapped Chad. God, it had felt good. Velvet gold warmth spread through her as she recalled how she’d sent her fury back at him. She wasn’t weak, or powerless. She didn’t have to put up with his shit.
Jane opened her computer and typed a quick note to her sub-Reddit group: I’m done. I’m going to let it out.
What happened? 1h3x3 typed.
I shocked him again. It felt amazing.
Course it did, 1h3x3 typed. It always does, but there’s a price.
m1ch@ wrote, Are you eating? Breathing? It’ll keep you grounded.
Yes, and yes, Jane typed. She tongued the gap in her teeth. But I have to do something. It felt like lava in her chest, lovely and bubbling and hot enough to melt skin and bones.
Are you sure that’s not just frustrated energy? You could go on a run, m1ch@ wrote.
Jane rolled her eyes. m1ch@ was always like this. She waited for 1h3x3’s reply.
I’ve felt that before, 1h3x3 said. Once it gets like that, it’s really hard to go back down. I’ve had to let it out, too.
What happened? Jane asked.
A pause.
It wasn’t pretty. But it felt good.
Stop it! m1ch@ said. We’re here to help each other not explode, not egg each other on.
I keep losing control, Jane typed, exasperated. If I hold it back, it’ll do something terrible. At least this way I’m in charge.
m1ch@ started typing, stopped, started again. After a few long seconds, their reply appeared. I hear you. Just remember you only have one body. Take care of it.
And have fun! Tell us after. 1h3x3 signed off.
Jane smiled, closed her eyes, and stretched her arms straight in the air. Such pleasure.
She woke up with a sore jaw. Running her tongue around her mouth, she felt the gap where a canine should be. She sat bolt upright as the events from yesterday came back: she’d lost a tooth after shocking Chad again.
She should be scared. Her body had warned her against losing control, it was getting worse each time——and yet, she didn’t care. It felt right to have that tooth gone, to know she’d spent it hurting him. He deserved it, and worse.
She got dressed, made coffee, and checked her phone to find a fifteen-meeting invite from Chad scheduled for eight-thirty that morning.
Her neck tensed. Fifteen-minute meetings only meant one thing.
She forced herself to shower and make another coffee before sitting down in front of her computer and clicking the meeting link.
Chad joined with a flourish, as if he’d come running from another meeting, though he worked at home just like the rest of them. What a douche.
“Jane, great,” he said. “I invited Joni to this call too.”
A moment later, the VP’s face appeared in a video square. Jane smiled, but Joni didn’t return the expression.
“I’m sorry we have to do this,” Joni said.
“Do what?” Jane asked.
“The CEO’s still pissed about the Zoom thing,” Chad said. “I tried to protect you, but there’s only so much I could do.”
This was ridiculous. “Chad, you told me not to test it. Why are you pretending I missed it?”
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.” He smiled in false confusion.
A throb started in Jane’s solar plexus, filling her with heat. She tasted salt and iron, and her fingers began to pulse. She held them up: blood rimmed the edges of her nails, some of it dripping down her finger.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Joni added. “Jane’s Quality Assurance. It’s her job.”
“Chad.” Jane had the receipts. She didn’t need him to admit it.
And yet, she wanted him to.
She leaned forward so her face filled the video. “Think back. You messaged me. Remember?” Her mouse hovered over the screenshots. She could share them right now, prove to Joni she was telling the truth.
Her body felt weightless and heavy at the same time, warmth pooling from her solar plexus out into her limbs. As the feeling spread, her arms tingled with power, itching, restless. She scraped her hands together and two of her nails plopped onto her desk, splatting her keyboard with blood. She grinned.
“Think about what?” Chad raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s your job. You didn’t do it. I’m sorry.”
Jane’s smile widened. Her teeth looked red in the meeting video. “So that’s it? That’s your story?”
He nodded. “I’m gonna have to let you go.”
In one fast movement, Jane pressed her bloody hands to the keyboard. Something inside her ripped, shattered, and she flung herself out through her palms, flying through her laptop into the beyond.
Chad’s body blinked. Everything was blurry, as if looking through a dirty window. He rubbed his eyes, looked down at his hands. They were clean, all ten nails attached and manicured. Of course he got manicures.
What the fuck what the fuck get out of me
Chad smiled and angled his head to get a better look at himself in the meeting video. With one hand, he mussed up his perfect hair, letting it fall messily across his forehead.
Stop no let me go what the fuck
“There you are,” Joni said. “I heard about your computer issues. Everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” Chad looked from Joni to Jane.
Jane grinned at him. Her teeth were red.
“Listen,” Chad said. “I did tell Jane not to test that feature. There was so much pressure to get it live, so I pushed it through without QA.”
Joni’s mouth dropped open. “What? But you said——”
“I lied.” Chad kept talking. “Jane, I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. I’ll do better from now on. The first thing I’m going to do is make sure you’re fairly compensated. I know you earn a lot less than the others on the team.”
Jane snorted. “Thanks.”
“Chad, is this appropriate? I was under the impression you were letting Jane go,” Joni said.
“No way.” He waved her off. “She’s too good, and this was my mistake. I might resign, actually. I need to think about it.”
“I see.” Joni thought for a moment. “Okay. Fix that Zoom issue as quickly as you can. We’ll keep this conversation between us. Jane, my apologies for this.” With that, Joni left the meeting.
Jane and Chad were alone.
“Well, this is weird,” Jane said.
“Seriously,” Chad-Jane said.
“How did we do it?”
“We didn’t mean to. I mean, we didn’t do it on purpose.”
Get out what the fuck let me go you stupid bitch
“He’s still being rude,” Chad-Jane said, amused.
“Of course he is. Want to come back?”
“No way. Let’s make him pay.” Settling into his new skin, Chad-Jane stroked the hair he was so proud of. Smooth and thick, styled into creamy black waves. It was the first thing people noticed about him.
Watching his own face in the meeting video, he wrapped his fingers around a thick lock and ripped it out of his scalp. It burned and his eyes watered. His mouth tried to scream. He smiled instead.
Jane gave Chad a gap-toothed, bloody grin, waved at him, and they both left the meeting.
Sophia Krich-Brinton (she/they) lives in Colorado with her partner, kids, and cats. They write weird stories at dawn when the world sleeps and the cats try to sit on their keyboard. Her work has appeared or is upcoming in HAD, The Argyle, Moss Puppy Mag, and more. When not writing, she boxes, plays the banjo, and goes backpacking. Her favorite revenge story is Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh. Absolutely delicious in every single way.
Find Sophia at sophiakbrinton.com or on Twitter/Instagram at @sophiakb_writes.
