Cancel and Regret

When I got home from work, I suddenly received a video push alert on my phone.

The title was written in an eye-catching font.

[I earn only $3,000 a month, but my boss forced me to participate in a team-building activity that costs an average of $30,000 per person. Will you want this good fortune?]

The thumbnail featured Cynthia's face, which was filled with unwillingness.

My heart sank sharply as I clicked on the video. The opening was a promotional video of a six-star hotel in the Madiles, but it was edited with a depressing black-and-white filter and accompanied by sad music.

The caption emerged.

[The boss's empty promise sure looks tempting.]

The scene switched to Cynthia's workstation, where a regular form was zoomed in on.

The caption that followed wrote: [Unfortunately, I am just an employee who wants to get off work in peace.]

Then came a close-up of her on the verge of tears, captioned: [I was told to use my precious weekend to attend a large group performance. I am speechless.]

She cleverly twisted the concept of "extra paid leave" into "using her weekend."

Finally, she griped to the camera, "I don't need the Madiles. I just want to sleep in on weekends. Anyone who wants that kind of luxury can take it."

The comments section predictably blew up.

[Gen Z should live this carefree! Tell us the company name, we will make it go viral!]

[I cannot stand these self-righteous bosses! Let me make it clear, my job is to work, not attend team building.]

[You said exactly what I was thinking. Who with social anxiety enjoys team building? Give me back my downtime!]

I was so livid that my hands and feet turned icy cold.

Three days of paid leave turned into "using their precious weekend."

A top-tier reward of $30,000 turned into "kidnapping."

The next morning, the atmosphere at the company was off.

Several employees surrounded Cynthia, commenting on her boldness while their faces expressed their excitement at the spectacle.

Larry even led her into my office.

As soon as Larry entered, he said with feigned concern, "Mr. Sander, please don't be angry. Though Cynthia's actions are extreme, they do reflect what many young people feel. Why don't you go along with public opinion?"

Cynthia stood off to the side, arms crossed, wearing a smug expression. She waved her phone. "Mr. Sander, look at this. This is the voice of the people and the trend of the times."

I replied indifferently, "Company traditions and rules won't change because of anyone's unreasonable demands."

Cynthia scoffed. "Traditions? Traditions are meant to be broken. If you don't find a way to satisfy everyone, I can't guarantee you won't be trending nationwide tomorrow."

I had barely finished speaking when my assistant burst through the door with a ghastly pale face. "Mr. Sander, bad news. Cynthia's video is trending!"

I refreshed my phone. Indeed. What disappointed me even more were the anonymous comments under the video, the IP addresses of which were all located in our office building.

[Oh, who can argue with that? They called it a luxury trip, but the hotel they stayed in last year wasn't even as big as my bathroom.]

[Perks? Just empty promises. The budget was $30,000. Even $3,000 is considered enough for that dump.]

These lies made me dizzy. They wanted the company's lavish perks while simultaneously trying to shift the risk onto the intern, fantasizing that they could just cash out the trip if things blew up. Their refined yet greedy selfishness shattered the kindness I had for years.

Looking at the two smug individuals before me, I suddenly felt everything utterly pointless.