Lena's first day at the office dragged on in a blur of work, stares, and the sound of her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. The morning had started with awkward introductions, followed by hours of being stuck at her desk, trying to focus on the work in front of her, but feeling the weight of every sideways glance and snide whisper from her colleagues.
They did their work, that much was clear. The office hummed with the sounds of keyboards tapping, phones ringing, and muted conversations about projects. But despite their productivity, Lena couldn't help but feel like an outsider in every conversation. No one made the effort to engage with her directly. When they spoke around her, it was as if she wasn't there at all, or worse, like she was a disruption in their perfect little world.
It wasn't exactly a shock to Lena. She had experienced this before—the isolation that came from being "different." She had always been the target judgement. It was as if her size was a defining feature that erased everything else about her: her intelligence, her drive, her ambition. She had learned to brush it off, to silence the hurt before it could consume her. But here, it was harder than ever to ignore.
By lunchtime, she was exhausted from keeping her head down, pretending not to notice the undercurrents of mockery running just below the surface. She couldn't keep it in anymore. She needed a moment to breathe, to talk to someone who understood.
She headed toward the restroom, walking quickly, eager for the quiet moment. Inside, she locked herself into one of the stalls, pulling out her phone. It only took a few seconds to find Claira's name in her contacts, and as the phone rang, Lena let out a slow breath, trying to steady the nerves she hadn't realized were rattling her.
"Hey, girl! How's it going?" Claira's voice was bright and warm through the speaker, a sound that immediately brought a sense of comfort to Lena.
Lena leaned against the cold tiles, her shoulders slumped. "It's... rough," she said, her voice low. "Everyone here is so cold. I'm trying to just focus on my work, but... every time I walk past someone, I can feel their eyes on me. Like... they're judging me, you know?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Claira spoke again, her tone shifting to something more serious. "I'm sorry, Lena. I know it's tough. But don't let them get to you. You're more than what they see. They don't know you, not really. You've got skills. You're smart, you're capable, and you're here for a reason."
"I don't know, Claira," Lena replied, her voice thick with frustration. "It's just... they talk about me like I don't belong here. Rita—she's the worst. Every time she looks at me, I feel like she's just waiting for me to screw up so she can make fun of me. Earlier, she made this comment about the chair I was sitting in. She said it was going to break under me. And then she laughed with the others, and... I don't know, it's just... it hurts."
Claira's voice softened, full of empathy. "I know it stings, babe. But those comments don't define you. What they say about you isn't your truth. What matters is who you are and what you can do. You've got more to offer than any of them ever will. Don't let their ignorance get to you. You know your worth."
Lena exhaled, feeling a little lighter with Claira's words, but the weight was still there, lingering in her chest. "I don't know how to keep doing this. I feel like I'm invisible to everyone but the people who want to put me down."
Claira's voice turned firmer. "Don't let them have that power over you. You're better than that. I know it's hard, but you've got this. You're stronger than they think. You've got a place here, Lena, and no one can take that from you."
Lena smiled slightly, feeling the familiar warmth of her friend's support seep into her. "Thanks, Claira. You always know what to say."
"Anytime, babe," Claira replied. "And hey, let's grab dinner this weekend. You, me, some good food, and a few drinks. I'll make sure you forget all about those fools at the office."
"Deal," Lena agreed, the thought of a night out with her friend already lifting her spirits. "I'll talk to you later."
After ending the call, Lena lingered for a moment, letting the words sink in. She was stronger than she'd been giving herself credit for. These people didn't know her, and they didn't have the right to judge her. She had worked hard to get to this point, and she wasn't going to let their ignorance ruin it.
When Lena left the restroom, she was determined to keep her head high. She would finish the day strong, no matter what.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it was time for a break, so she made her way to the coffee room. She could use a pick-me-up—something to steady her nerves before she dove back into the work.
As she entered, she saw Rita standing by the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee. The tall woman's sharp features twisted into a sly grin as soon as she saw Lena. It didn't take much for Lena to guess what was coming next.
"Well, well," Rita said, loud enough for Lena to hear, "if it isn't the new intern. You surviving the day, or do you need help with your chair again?"
Lena's heart sank, but she kept her posture straight, refusing to let Rita see how much the comment stung. She approached the coffee machine slowly, pouring herself a cup, her back to Rita.
"I'm fine," Lena replied, her voice even. "The chair's holding up just fine, thanks for asking."
Rita chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee and leaning against the counter. "Well, I don't know if it can handle you for much longer. I mean, maybe you should stick to something smaller, like a... desk chair or something. You know, something that can actually hold you."
Lena's grip on the coffee cup tightened, but she didn't turn around. She wasn't going to let Rita win. Not today. Not anymore. She set the cup down on the counter, turning to face Rita, her eyes cold but steady.
"I think you should be careful about what you say, Rita," Lena said, her voice low but firm. "You don't know anything about me, and I don't need your approval."
Rita's smirk faltered for just a second, but she quickly recovered, taking a step forward. "Oh, I think I know exactly what I need to know. You're just here to make up the numbers. You won't last long."
Lena didn't hesitate. "You're wrong," she said, each word a challenge. "I'm not here to make up numbers. I'm here to do my job, and I'll do it better than you ever will."
Rita scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Is that so?"
Lena didn't wait for Rita to speak again. She had had enough. "Yes, it is. And you might want to remember that before you make another comment."
For a moment, the office felt like it held its breath, the tension thick between them. Rita's face twisted in disbelief. She had expected Lena to crumble, to apologize. Instead, Lena was standing tall, unshaken.
Rita glared at her, her expression cold and calculating. "You think you can just walk in here and start telling me what to do?" she said, her voice dripping with mockery.
"I think I can stand up for myself," Lena replied, her voice steady, "which is more than I can say for you."
Rita's gaze shifted, but there was no real comeback, just a brief flicker of hesitation before she scoffed again, turning to walk away without another word.
Lena stayed still for a moment, her heart still racing from the exchange. She hadn't expected to stand her ground so firmly, but it felt good—empowering, even. She wasn't going to let Rita or anyone else dictate her experience here. She was here for a reason, and she wasn't going to let their ignorance derail her.
As the coffee room returned to its usual hum of quiet chatter, Lena took a deep breath, feeling the weight in her chest start to lift. She was going to keep moving forward, no matter what. She didn't need to be liked by everyone, but she was going to prove to herself, and to them, that she belonged here.
And with that thought, she returned to her desk, her focus now back on the work in front of her. Whatever they thought of her didn't matter anymore. What mattered was what she could do.