Chapter 8 Terminated

At the new co-working facility, John's morning started out like any other: coffee was brewing, Olivia was already bent over her screen, and the sound of servers in the next room could be heard. His phone chimed just after he had taken two sips of his oat latte. He looked down and saw a BlackStar Industries calendar reminder that said "Final HR Exit Interview: 10:00 AM."

His chest became constricted. When he left weeks ago, he believed he had already broken off contact. Corporate bureaucracy apparently disagreed.

He showed Olivia the reminder. She scowled. "Are you returning?"

John gave his temples a massage. "I must complete the cycle. Make it official. No loose ends.

She protested by opening her lips, then shutting it. "If you have to. Do not allow them to pull you back in, however.

He nodded, appreciative of her help.

John entered BlackStar's glass tower via the rotating doors at 9:45 AM. The chilly air conditioning in the lobby sliced through his pants and T-shirt. The suits flying past made him feel uncomfortable in his casual clothes, but he refused to wear a tie to them ever again.

The receptionist, Paula, nodded curtly at him. Just another name on the list, no sympathy this time.

With his coffee cooling in his fingers, he waited in the drab gray HR waiting room. Minutes sluggishly passed as his heart thundered. He saw Olivia's patient grin, the investors awaiting his fresh proposal, and, of course, Mark, comfortably seated in his upstairs corner office.

Down the hall, a door opened. A lady in a navy blazer appeared, stern-faced. "John Turner?"

He got up. "I am that."

She gave a firm nod. "Come with me."

The HR office has an old carpet and disinfectant odor. Two seats, one table, and a file folder were waiting. John's heartbeat accelerated. He sat with his back straight on the chair. The Senior HR Manager, **Ms. Kline**, handed the packet in his direction from across the room.

"Thank you for coming in, Mr. Turner," she said in a measured tone. "The purpose of this meeting is to finalize your employment termination with BlackStar Industries, which will take effect immediately."

He blinked. "Effective right away?"

She opened the folder and nodded. "Your resignation date was recorded as two weeks ago, yet according to our records, you are still paid as of right now. You are entitled to a severance payout, which includes two weeks' compensation, as well as thirty days of continued benefits under company policy.

His gut churned. He had anticipated paperwork, but not this detached clinical approach. "Thanks for the clarity,"

Then Ms. Kline turned the pages. Additionally, we ask that any business property be returned, including any papers, laptops, and ID badges. These will be picked up by a courier at the end of the day.

John took a deep breath. "Comprehensive."

After pausing, she looked him in the eyes. Some senior management believe your accomplishments throughout your employment were substantial, especially in light of current developments. For someone with your technical experience, our audit department could have openings. After your separation is over, you may apply via our internal site if you are interested.

He was torn between fury and shock. "Want to stay?"

She gave a shrug. "It is a recommendation."

He briefly closed his eyes. All of his instincts told him to say no, to condemn her, to go. However, he considered the clean future he had carved out, the investors prepared to send money, and Olivia waiting. "No, thank you," he said steadily, shaking his head.

Satisfied, Ms. Kline nodded. Excellent. Your last paycheck will be processed by Friday. Best wishes for your next chapter.

She got up to shake John's hand as he stood up. Her hold was only ceremonial.

He picked up his things from the table, including the benefits summary and the severance letter, and put them in his bag.

With his shoulders straight, his mouth set, and dark rings under his eyes, the elevator doors closed on his reflection. He sensed a finality setting in like dust on an empty shelf as the automobile came down.

The morning rush hummed through the lobby outside. He is no longer concerned about everyone hurrying there. As if stepping out of a tomb, he walked into the sunshine. The city was teeming with opportunity, and the sky was clear and blue. He gave himself permission to grin for a time.

He took his phone out. Innocently, the *Billionaire's Club* icon gazed back at him. He hovered his thumb for a moment before navigating to the home screen:

New Mission: "Reinforce Your Identity Show the World Who You Are" Popularity: 68.4% Fortune: $24.32

Through his headphones, the voice of the app chimed "There are times when the only way to evolve is to remove an old skin. This should be made public."

John let out a breath. He was tempted by the app to announce his termination. ... order to gain popularity points by using his departure as a show. He might publish the opportunity to reapply, post the severance letter, and see his numbers soar.

However, he glanced up at the street, the foot traffic, and the far-off clatter of a cart belonging to a seller. He shut off the application.

He came to the important realization that fame and *purpose* were not the same thing. He did not have to find joy in every failure. Not all moments were for broadcasting; others were for experiencing.

Once again, his phone buzzed it was Olivia texting him. "Is everything alright?"

He gave a brief thumbs up: "Just finished. On my way back."

In a few of minutes, he received her reply's recognizable ping "See you shortly. Avoid being haunted by business ghosts."

Grinning, he started to make his way to the metro station. He saw the investor café, the coding whiteboards, and the light in Olivia's eyes as they solved a difficult bug at every junction. Now that was his reality.

He kept thinking about the app's suggestion as he went down the stairs: Reinforce Your Identity. However, he was aware that neither Mark's meaningless promotion nor BlackStar's HR regulations defined who he was. It was characterized by the ideals he decided to defend, the team he was assembling, and the code he developed.

At the foot of the steps, he stopped and took out his phone. He wrote the following into a fresh note app, "John Turner Founder & CTO, Reality Layers Vision: Revolutionize marketing by creating real, immersive experiences that link consumers to goods and to one another."

He hit "Save."

He shut his phone and put it aside without turning back to the BlackStar app.

John pushed through the co-working space's entrance one hour later. Olivia's eyebrows knitted in alarm as she glanced up instantly. "How did it go?"

He smiled sincerely and put his backpack down. "I am now formally free."

She let out a sigh of relief and gave him a brief embrace. "Greetings from the real world."

She let him go, and he laughed. "This world appeals to me more."

She gave his phone a wave. "Have you made a post about it?"

John gave a headshake. "An audience is not necessary for everything."

Olivia grinned triumphantly. "Wise move."

Reiterating his complete dedication to Reality Layers and verifying the severance terms, he opened his laptop and started sending an email to their investors.

He recalled the app's enigmatic voice as he pressed "Send," anticipating his push of "Broadcast." Rather, he shut down the tab and concentrated on the code that was in front of him.

He was let go no, freed from the profession that had almost destroyed him. He would now be responsible for every piece of code he developed, every polished demo, and every task he selected.

John Turner, a former BlackStar employee and full-time architect of his own fate, then plunged headfirst into the world he was creating.

.