Jax finally stumbled into her room and collapsed onto her bed. She didn't remember tossing her phone, only that it now lay face down under her pillow, insulating her from the terrifying outside world.
The message from Astraea, —was less a text and more a self-destruct sequence written in a language Jax couldn't parse. "I have to be honest. This project wasn't a coincidence. My boss didn't want me to come here. I asked for it." Am I about to get a marriage proposal or a performance review? Either way, I'm calling HR.
Lately, Astraea had been making obvious moves. The lingering eye contact, the frequent texts about non-work matters, the way she'd single Jax out in group settings—it all screamed, I am interested. Jax had been quietly overthinking every single one of these advances for weeks, perpetually fighting the core, undeniable fact in her mind: The goddess can't like someone like me.
She stared blankly at the ceiling. The ceiling, in turn, offered no answers, only a patch of slightly peeling paint that reminded her she should probably do a maintenance request.
"Okay, brain," she whispered to the shadows. "We don't understand city-girl social cues or secret agendas. We also can't process the fact that Nina is pulling away."
Her eyes darted to the phone under her pillow. She had been about to call Nina, when Astraea's text detonated. Now, all impulses were dead.
"We are going to treat this like a critical software error," Jax decided. "No calls to Nina. No replies to Astraea. We are going to shut down now. And tomorrow... tomorrow, we'll try to find the nearest escape hatch."
Her only logical decision for the night was to do absolutely nothing. Jax, the queen of passive avoidance, was securely back in her element.
The next evening, the small provincial office celebrated the project's success at a local bar. The air was loud, smelling faintly of cheap beer and desperation. The room was filled with the forced, high-pitched laughter of VirtualTask colleagues finally meeting face-to-face and realizing that no, their online charisma did not translate to real life.
Jax was seated at a long table, desperately trying to look more interested in a sad plate of lukewarm, tragically soggy spring rolls than the high-stakes confrontation brewing next to her. She was maintaining a low profile, silently wishing she had the magical ability to blend into the wallpaper, or perhaps simply dissolve into a very small, harmless puddle of existential dread.
Astraea—the Virtual Goddess herself—was a vision of effortless, intimidating cool in a black silk blouse. She had been politely chatting with a project manager about "leveraging deliverables," but Jax could feel the weight of Astraea's attention. Like a highly trained cat tracking a laser pointer, Astraea's gaze kept drifting back to Jax, a calculated smile fixed on her lips that screamed: "I know your secret, and I'm waiting for the ideal moment to dissect your entire emotional infrastructure."
Astraea finally sit next to Jax, her voice low and composed, but with a sharp edge of interrogation. "Jax," she began. "I tried texting you last night. Did you get the message?"
Jax nearly choked on a breadstick. She managed a clumsy nod.
"You didn't reply," Astraea pressed, her eyes searching Jax's. "Weren't you curious? Or did it go to spam? I was worried about the signal."
Jax's mind immediately went into a full panic loop. She couldn't lie, and she definitely couldn't tell the truth: that her emotional operating system had crashed due to an excess of confusing feelings.
In the absence of a witty response, Jax resorted to pure instinct. She grabbed the overflowing mug of beer in front of her, raised it, and—without a single thought—bottoms-upped the entire thing.
The sudden, dramatic gulp earned a mix of amused gasps and awkward cheers from their nearby colleagues.
Wiping the foam from her mouth, Jax felt the immediate, dizzying warmth of the alcohol—the only kind of liquid courage she knew. The tipsiness was exactly the shield she needed. Her shyness dissolved, replaced by a reckless boldness.
"I think the word is suspicious," Jax slurred, her voice now dangerously direct. She paused, delivering the final blow. "So, why'd you ask for it?"
For a fleeting second, Astraea's composure shattered. The sharp intelligence in her eyes faltered, replaced by a flicker of genuine shock. Astraea had clearly prepared an elegant, corporate-flirting response, but Jax's bluntness had torpedoed her.
Jax's eyes glazed over slightly, her internal monologue overriding her speech control. Her voice dropped to a loud, drunken whisper.
"I mean, seriously," Jax continued, completely unaware she was talking out loud, "Why would the Virtual Goddess request a transfer to the middle of a provincial WiFi zone? My internal system is screaming 'Glitch in the Matrix'—unless... unless you actually like the local coffee... or something?"
Astraea blinked once, then twice, the shock dissolving into an expression Jax had never seen: a flicker of genuine vulnerability that made her eyes flutter, followed by a sudden, irresistible, sharp burst of amusement. A small, genuine laugh escaped her, a sound usually reserved for private boardrooms, not public bars.
"Oh, Jax," Astraea said, her voice soft but still edged with calculation, "You are absolutely dying to know. And no, it's not the coffee."
Jax's mind screamed: Did I just say that out loud? Am I about to be arrested for emotional espionage? Astraea opened her mouth to speak again—
—but The scene cut across town to a loud, bustling Chinese restaurant. Jin and Nina were concluding their "intensive courtesing dinner." Jin, looking aggressively well-dressed, was trying to flirt over a plate of abandoned sweet and sour pork.
"So, Your Majesty," Jin said, using his chopsticks to gesture grandly. "My courtesing performance tonight: was it worthy of your royal approval? Or do I need to hire a string quartet and light more dramatic incense?"
Nina gave a dismissive wave, picking at her last potsticker. "Your performance was consistent," she said dryly. "Loud, distracting, and guaranteed to get you noticed. Exactly the opposite of Jax."
Jin's phone began to vibrate violently. He checked it, his face falling as he read the flood of messages.
"Ah, the price of excellence!" he cried dramatically. "The VirtualTask group chat is exploding! They're having a celebration party for the project success! They're demanding my presence! We have to go—I'm integral to the team! My teammates need my high-fives!"
Nina's focus was immediately drawn to the screen, where she saw the names of Jax and Astraea mentioned multiple times. A familiar knot of dread and possessiveness tightened in her gut.
"You can go," Nina said, trying to sound casual, though her voice came out drier than the old potsticker she was poking. "I'll just hang out here and finish my fortune cookie."
"But, Nina! I need my applause! My star is rising, and I need you there for the visual aid!" Jin pleaded, leaning closer with the intensity of a man proposing marriage with a fast-food onion ring. "You have to come! It's a work party, but it's still free appetizers! Plus, I want to show everyone the goddess I've been aggressively courting—I mean, intensively courtesing!"
Nina looked down at her untouched Jasmine tea. The truth was, she desperately didn't want to see Jax and Astraea together, laughing that familiar, easy way. But Jin's sheer persistence, combined with her own internal logic, finally hit a breaking point.
Why am I running away? she challenged herself.
She was Nina. She didn't hide from awkwardness or fear. She had to prove to herself that her feelings for Jax were just "platonic, non-romantic, best friend" and that the "Virtual Goddess" was no threat. She needed to look at them and feel nothing but disinterest.
Nina stood up, pulling on her mask of indifference.
"Fine," Nina announced, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'll go. But if anyone tries to pitch me a new marketing strategy, I'm leaving you with the bill."
Ten minutes later, Jin and Nina arrived at the bar. Jin, completely oblivious to the emotional warfare he was walking into, dragged Nina straight to the core of the chaos.
"There they are!" he bellowed. "Jax and the V.G!" [VirtualTask Gang]
He led them to the end of the long table, where an intense, silent standoff was still playing out.
Jax was seated, her face flushed and her eyes slightly crossed from the beer.
Astraea was leaning forward, her face composed but her eyes hard.
Jin, seizing the moment, grabbed the empty seat. "We're here!" he announced, pulling a rigid Nina into the seat next to him.
Nina's breath hitched. She was now seated elbow-to-elbow with Jin, trapped in the seat directly opposite Astraea, whose gaze was still fixed on the table like a predator. Jin, completely unaware, was beaming across the table at the red-faced, tipsy Jax. "Allow me to introduce my very special girl" he said.
The high, screaming alarm in Jax's head upgraded its sound to a Code Red siren as Nina's head snapped toward her, and Jax realized: This is officially the worst double date in the history of graphic design.
The four of them—Jax, Astraea, Jin, and Nina—were now packed together, forming a small, highly explosive square of tension and unacknowledged feelings.
The noise of the party faded. The four of them looked at each other, and the only sound was the high, screaming alarm in Jax's head.
To be continued...