PHDecodedInSilence
Leecher
Once upon a coffee-stained Monday in a very average office sat a not-so-average woman, at least in her own mind. Her name was Narcishella, self-declared “queen of the team,” “alpha energy,” and “basically an influencer… but corporate.”
Despite posting daily motivational quotes like:
“Boss babes don’t compete, they dominate”
…her posts got about as much attention as a printer manual.
Only one person always showed up in the comments like clockwork, her ever-loyal flying monkey: Julian the Minion.
𝙉𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖’𝙨 𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙃𝙞𝙩𝙨 (𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩. 𝘿𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣)
Every time Narcishella posted a “candid” work selfie (actually 23 takes, Facetuned, and filtered into another dimension) she would message Julian immediately:
Narcishella:
“React NOW. Heart it. Say I look ‘radiant but powerful.’”
Julian:
“Done. Should I add a fire emoji or is that too much?”
Narcishella:
“Add 3. And a ‘CEO mood’ comment. And tag that guy from Marketing. You know… him.”
Yes. Him. The Guy from Marketing.
Narcishella was obsessed. She barely knew his name, but she was convinced he secretly adored her… he was just playing “emotional chess.”
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙣
One day, the Guy from Marketing commented on someone else’s photo. A well-liked, actually-talented coworker. Narcishella felt her entire personality unravel like a bad office printer jam.
So she called upon Julian once again:
“Post our photo together. Caption it ‘soul besties.’ Then react to it. Tag me. Make it look like I’m busy, thriving and unbothered.”
“Oh, and make sure to react to it with a laugh emoji too. Gotta show we’re fun.”
Julian obeyed, like a loyal gamer on auto-click. But deep down, he was running out of fake compliments and energy drinks.
𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙨
The new target? The talented coworker.
Narcishella didn’t like that she was getting actual praise for… doing her job well.
So she whispered:
“Make a vague post about people who chase clout. Use the word ‘spotlight.’ She’ll know it’s about her.”
Julian posted:
“Funny how some people need applause to function. Some of us just DO THE WORK in silence.”
Narcishella immediately commented:
“Whew. Drag them, sir!”
Only 3 likes. Two were Narcishella's sock accounts. One was her mom.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩
One day, Julian forgot to react to Narcishella’s four-paragraph caption about being a “misunderstood visionary with God-given ideas.”
She DM’d him with a genuine threat:
“If you don’t comment in 5 minutes, I'll tell people who you really are. I don’t play.”
Julian snapped.
He replied:
“Sis… I’ve reacted to your posts more than I react to sunlight. I’m exhausted.”
“You’re not a visionary. You’re just really good at Cαиνα and passive-aggressive captions.”
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙩
Julian ghosted her. Unfollowed. Muted all 6 of her accounts.
He joined the actually-talented coworker’s trivia team instead.
Meanwhile, Narcishella sat at her desk, staring at her new post:
“The loudest in the room is usually the weakest.”
Zero reactions.
She whispered to herself:
“They’re just jealous. I’m the moment. I am the entire mood”
She laughed softly.
Then liked her own post.
Twice.
Despite posting daily motivational quotes like:
“Boss babes don’t compete, they dominate”
…her posts got about as much attention as a printer manual.
Only one person always showed up in the comments like clockwork, her ever-loyal flying monkey: Julian the Minion.
𝙉𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖’𝙨 𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙃𝙞𝙩𝙨 (𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩. 𝘿𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣)
Every time Narcishella posted a “candid” work selfie (actually 23 takes, Facetuned, and filtered into another dimension) she would message Julian immediately:
Narcishella:
“React NOW. Heart it. Say I look ‘radiant but powerful.’”
Julian:
“Done. Should I add a fire emoji or is that too much?”
Narcishella:
“Add 3. And a ‘CEO mood’ comment. And tag that guy from Marketing. You know… him.”
Yes. Him. The Guy from Marketing.
Narcishella was obsessed. She barely knew his name, but she was convinced he secretly adored her… he was just playing “emotional chess.”
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙣
One day, the Guy from Marketing commented on someone else’s photo. A well-liked, actually-talented coworker. Narcishella felt her entire personality unravel like a bad office printer jam.
So she called upon Julian once again:
“Post our photo together. Caption it ‘soul besties.’ Then react to it. Tag me. Make it look like I’m busy, thriving and unbothered.”
“Oh, and make sure to react to it with a laugh emoji too. Gotta show we’re fun.”
Julian obeyed, like a loyal gamer on auto-click. But deep down, he was running out of fake compliments and energy drinks.
𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙨
The new target? The talented coworker.
Narcishella didn’t like that she was getting actual praise for… doing her job well.
So she whispered:
“Make a vague post about people who chase clout. Use the word ‘spotlight.’ She’ll know it’s about her.”
Julian posted:
“Funny how some people need applause to function. Some of us just DO THE WORK in silence.”
Narcishella immediately commented:
“Whew. Drag them, sir!”
Only 3 likes. Two were Narcishella's sock accounts. One was her mom.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩
One day, Julian forgot to react to Narcishella’s four-paragraph caption about being a “misunderstood visionary with God-given ideas.”
She DM’d him with a genuine threat:
“If you don’t comment in 5 minutes, I'll tell people who you really are. I don’t play.”
Julian snapped.
He replied:
“Sis… I’ve reacted to your posts more than I react to sunlight. I’m exhausted.”
“You’re not a visionary. You’re just really good at Cαиνα and passive-aggressive captions.”
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙩
Julian ghosted her. Unfollowed. Muted all 6 of her accounts.
He joined the actually-talented coworker’s trivia team instead.
Meanwhile, Narcishella sat at her desk, staring at her new post:
“The loudest in the room is usually the weakest.”
Zero reactions.
She whispered to herself:
“They’re just jealous. I’m the moment. I am the entire mood”
She laughed softly.
Then liked her own post.
Twice.