9527 was in the breakroom, comfortably sipping a coffee with orange syrup. He was quite satisfied with his life.
'Wait, that's not right.' He was no longer just 9527, the customer service agent, but 9527, the customer service team lead.
Even though it was just a team lead position, it was a big deal to him. He was in charge of ten people—practically management.
'At least, he considered himself part of management.'
Besides, the employees under him were all decent people—kids from good families.
The social media platform they managed was past its initial startup phase, so it no longer needed old swindlers running eighty accounts apiece just to bait people into conversation.
Which meant they no longer needed to recruit "special talents" like him, men with rap sheets as thick as a phone book.
He'd never been tormented by a guilty conscience during his long career as a con artist. Yet, after becoming a team lead, he'd started losing sleep, constantly haunted by his inglorious past.
