Kriti arrived at the office fifteen minutes late.
Not because she was careless this time, but because she had spent ten minutes staring at herself in the mirror, trying to convince herself that she actually belonged in a place like this.
She didn't.
At least, that's what she felt.
Inside the office, everything was already in motion. People were typing, talking, moving with purpose. No one looked like they were wasting time. No one looked like they were "just here to enjoy life," as she had said yesterday.
Ayaan's words echoed in her mind again.
"You will work."
She sighed softly and walked to her desk.
On her screen was a task assigned to her: a basic client report compilation. Simple enough on paper.
She leaned back.
"Easy," she muttered.
But twenty minutes later, she was still staring at it.
The problem wasn't difficulty. It was attention. Every instruction blurred together. She kept switching tabs, checking her phone, getting distracted by nothing in particular.
A senior employee passed by and paused.
"Miss Kriti, how is the report coming?"
She smiled quickly.
"Almost done."
It was a lie. A small one. Harmless, she thought.
But an hour later, the supervisor called her name.
"Kriti. Office room."
Something in the tone made her stomach tighten.
Inside the room, the supervisor placed her file on the table.
"This is your report."
Kriti looked at it. It was incomplete. Disorganized. Half the data missing.
"I… I was going to fix it," she said quickly.
The supervisor didn't raise his voice. That made it worse.
"You said this was almost done."
Kriti opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Silence settled.
A few employees standing outside the glass door were watching. Not openly, but enough for her to feel it.
The supervisor spoke again.
"You were given a simple task. This is not acceptable."
Kriti's face tightened slightly.
"I'm new," she said softly. "It takes time."
"That is not the issue," he replied. "The issue is you didn't try properly."
That sentence hit harder than she expected.
Because it was true.
The room felt smaller now.
Kriti glanced down at the file again. For the first time, she didn't have a joke. No sarcastic reply. No playful escape.
Just a strange, uncomfortable silence inside her.
"I'll fix it," she said finally.
The supervisor nodded once.
"You will redo it. Properly. And submit it before the end of the day."
She walked out of the room slowly.
Back at her desk, the noise of the office felt different now. Not loud. Not busy.
Judging.
She stared at the screen again.
This time, her fingers moved slowly. Hesitantly. She tried to focus. Really focus. But it felt like her mind didn't know how.
At one point, she leaned back and whispered to herself,
"So this is what work feels like…"
No one answered.
No one comforted her.
No one saved her.
By evening, she submitted the corrected file.
It was better than before. Not perfect, but improved.
The supervisor glanced at it and gave a small nod.
"Better. Not enough yet, but better."
That was it.
No praise. No applause. No special treatment.
Just improvement.
When she left the office that day, the sky outside looked softer than usual.
Kriti stood near the building entrance for a moment, not moving.
Her usual confidence wasn't gone, but it had changed shape.
It wasn't loud anymore.
It was quieter.
More real.
She pulled out her phone, almost instinctively, like she wanted to complain to someone.
Then stopped.
Ayaan's words came back again, but differently this time.
"You are not a child anymore."
She looked at the building one more time.
"This is going to be annoying," she muttered.
But she didn't quit.
And for Kriti, that was the first real beginning of something she had always avoided.
Responsibility.