I’m a cog, tirelessly spinning without the right to think of anything else, If I ever stopped, I would be replaced, if I ever stood out, I would be hammered back in and if I tried spinning the other way, then I’ll be deemed a malfunction… 

4:00 AM, I pull myself out of my bed and fix the sheets, 4:02 I’m in the kitchen turning the greasy stove switch under a kettle’s worth of water, and before 4:07 it’s poured screeching into a mug with coffee powder. After the drink runs down my dried throat, I blink twice as a sign that my mind’s completely awake.

4:09, I pour what’s left in the kettle to warm my shower water and take a bath and I’m out by 4:14. 4:15 I pulled my neatly ironed uniform from hangers hung on my window and got changed for work. 4:20 My roommates forgot to buy cooking oil— a lousy bunch as always— but I had to act fast. 4:21 I empty the rice cooker and cook a cup of rice with uncracked eggs. 

4:51, with my Tupperware in hand and the rest of my belongings prepared for the day I excavated my breakfast into my container and hurried out of my dorm room, roughly twenty minutes behind schedule.   

There was little room for error, even with heels, I descended the stairs from my dorm on the 4th floor like my life was on the line. 5:03, the terminal was in sight, and with barely a trickle of sweat, chased after the first jeepney en route to my workplace. 5:10, I was the first in line inside and the space was filled before 5:20, this offset my prior time loss. 

A timid exhale escaped my breath as relief rushed over me, and before 5:30, the booming engine of the jeepney signaled the start of my morning commute. 

For the longest time, my parents always blabbered like broken records, that we had to be studious and hard workers so that we may graduate, earn a living, and live a life out of poverty. 

I initially rejected that idea—thinking of it as a scary tale to keep us from becoming wayward— so that I spent less time skipping school and racking up hours in a secluded Com Shop playing whatever videogame I got my hands on. 

But the older I became, the more the fear reared its ugly head. The fear of remaining impoverished and miserable, to remain a pathetic husk; unable to properly enjoy the leisures of the world. 

In this fast-moving world, ruthlessly leaving anyone unable to keep up, left to wither away in the toxic slums of inequity— never to see hope once more— To sleep on the streets of the filthy few who'd stomp and cheat others out of their way to the top. 

There was only one thing I could believe with sincere integrity. That I won't end up like those pitiful street dwellers, that I'll climb my way out of this mess, and get a taste of that wanted happiness I’m entitled to. The experience of success that many dream of but never achieve, like owning my car, my own house, and eating three times without dreading money at the end of the day, knowing that I'll have more tomorrow.

I want to hold the possibility of that happiness at the tip of my fingers, and use that as my harness— my strings— to pull myself up this treacherous mountain and witness its peak. 

As a result, I've detached myself from any form of distraction, gone were the days where I spent countless hours toying away online playing games I don't even remember, or spending time with people I barely knew and enjoyed being with. This time, I'll be smarter, and wiser. I'll spend all the time in my life to pull myself up that peak and attain the riches that await me. 

6:30 The sun has just risen, peaking through the blinds of the clouds. Large indistinguishable forms of dark blue meshed with the spectrum of warm colors whilst retaining a moody gray shade that hinted at the possibility of rain later. 

After 6:35, when the jeepney headed and resumed its commute, leaving a trail of petroleum fumes on its trail. I take my first right step to the establishment, a five-story midrise right at the center of downtown. 6:40, I glimpse the morning shift guard manning his post and I stop by his post to check and write at 6:45 AM. For the year and a half I've been employed here, this has never been a minute late or a minute earlier. 

“For a working student, you're an exceptional employee Eve.” He quips whilst scratching the back of his head, I merely smile and tilt my head. “Mind my nagging but is there a reason why you always arrive at 6:45?” 

“Nothing in particular sir, it's just a coincidence I guess,” I responded without a thought, before leaving the black retractable pen on the podium before entering. “There's no need to be so coy about it— always the busy person too…” 

On my first day of work here, my supervisor advised that the optimal arrival time for work is an hour and 25 minutes (1:25:00) before the start of the work shift. So that I could debug my supervisor’s work before resuming my part-time responsibilities. I wasn't about to disobey his wishes, I didn't want to make myself look like a liability, or else I’d be replaced without a thought. 

6:47 I'll set the lights on in the office room, plug the water dispenser, walk around the cubicles, and settle myself on an empty corner table. I opened both my and my supervisor's computer and began. 6:52 The first employee of the workplace. 

“Hello! Good morning.” I greet with the most superficial politeness I mustered. At 6:55 with a cup in hand, he prepares his coffee. 

This cycle continues two more times until 7:00 AM when the 4th employee entering is my supervisor. Who shortly after designates me closer to the cubicles, specifically at 7:07 after he reruns my debugs and rewards me with the same lukewarm remarks of “This will do. I'll take it from here.”

Without as much as a thank you, I proceeded to survey the office space for employees who were having trouble with their computers. Problems that they otherwise wouldn't run into if they properly knew how the computer works to begin with. Although, their ineptitude did give me this job, so I shouldn't be so sour.

“Eve, if you could assist me for a moment.” Requests the middle-aged woman who always had consistent issues with her computer, two weeks specifically. 

I roll my eyes before placing a facade of assistance  “Sure thing  Ma’am. May I take a closer look?” I urged whilst sliding into her cubicle decorated with plastic flowers and hung wooden ornaments. To think that someone would find solace in a place as monotonous as an office cubicle… 

I mean, if you imprison a person for long enough even they’ll find peace with the metal collars on their necks and the reins restraining their wrists. 

The screen was locked in a white flash and the cursor perpetually reloading. It was frozen because of one application— something the task manager couldn’t fix— 

“Control, Alt, Delete.” I repeat in my voice whilst my fingers dance on the keyboard to input those keys before the screen flashes to the blue backdrop of the important settings… 

“ You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of human beings.” my eyes fluttered “Huh?” I mutter staring knives into the corner of the screen. 

A message in all white is written on the bottom left corner before vanishing. Although I didn’t want to alarm the woman by saying that some rogue software was in her computer— not without proper proof— I sighed, ignoring the strange text and fixing her computer properly. 

“Aha~ I knew you’d do it. My young savior. These computers weren’t the norm at all—” She reasons, seemingly to spare herself the embarrassment of asking my help numerous times, though that doesn’t concern me as I continue my surveillance of the place without another word uttered. 

Like a vehicle on autopilot, droning around until someone inevitably calls my name and drags me back to the real world. Whether in school or here, there was nothing different between me and a computer, only doing what it’s told at its best capacity… 

Not that it degraded me in any way, but I find it endearing that my effectiveness at best rivals a computer. But, that strange message continued to scratch at the back of my head, It wasn’t just that it was different but that it shouldn’t even be there. 

“Eve!” My supervisor calls, making my head twist behind me in a blink, “Is everything alright?” He demanded with urgency… not that something wrong happened, to justify the cause. That darn text managed to derail my focus.     

I exhale with a smile and clasp my hands together, “Yes sir! Sorry for the inconvenience, did you call me for something?—” I  respond, though he shook his head with a frown. 

“Uh, no actually, I just came to remind you that we’re on lunch period, come with me.” He gestures toward his table in the corner of the room.   

I nod and follow after him, that strange message can be figured out later. 

During breaks, we would usually dine together beside his desk, and work on maintenance and the company database before the resumption at 1:00 PM, In my resume, I’m not qualified for such tasks, but they weren’t troublesome in the slightest and my supervisor has handed me some of his responsibility for the price of paying me as thanks. 

Cash is cash, and I won’t reject opportunities to earn more of it, so this system worked out just fine between us.

Taking out the plastic earlier— my supposed breakfast— I opened and ate the boiled egg rice for lunch. Sitting primly on the foldable chair my supervisor requested on my behalf. 

Neither of us was talking, nor did we share interests— not that I had any—  we were both business-oriented minds and the lack of conversation exuded this aura to an almost strangulating extent. 

Though for once he’d open up with actual words. “Eve, I know you’ll understand, but I’ll have to delay your wage until next week.” his plea, sounding more monotonous than AI— could he at least be more sympathetic when saying it?—  He bargained 16% of his salary for my wage and he still couldn’t afford it? I work on things I’m not qualified for on his behalf.

I walk around the office helping those running with software difficulties, lastly, I'll debug and troubleshoot his coding for him without as much as a thank you. This… This was indescribable.     

I slowly lower my utensils, pausing my eating entirely as my eyes pierce through his glasses. “Sir?” I utter with disbelief. “I have my finances to deal with, I know you understand, after all, it will only be for this week.” He reasons with a tenuous tone, slouching shoulders and all.    

Taken back, my eyes, wide open fluttered before continuing the conversation with absolute restraint. I ease my voice with a cough before asking “It seems quite urgent sir, mind if I know why?” 

He frowns, pressing his lips together, and scoffs “You’re smart, aren't you? Prying into your supervisor's affairs is unethical behavior.” He argues, throwing shade at my intrepidness for my rightful salary. Though this wouldn’t quell my intent, after all, guilt and shame never earned anyone a damn thing. 

Back firm against the stool with my palms on my knees, I feign sympathize with his “sudden”  plight “I get it, but I have the right to know the reason.” 

“I told you, it's private affairs, your right to be informed has been fulfilled.” He retorts, leaning back from his slouch and holding his eye contact. “Remember, you're the bigger beneficiary between us. 

So please, have patience for my situation.” He cautioned with his always present dull, monotonous voice, but with a tinge of malice this time.   

“I understand…” I sighed “But, my wage must be doubled for next week as compensation.”  

He buckles to my condition with a frown “Tsk! Alright, you strike a hard bargain, but fine, I’ll give you twice the salary next week, understood?” He conceded and I took the last spoonful of my lunch with a smirk.

At 12:54, I packed my Tupperware and utensils in my extra carry-on, and at 12:56 I retouched to make myself presentable for the afternoon, leading me at 12:59 completely fixed in presentation and mind. 

Not soon after I hear my voice again, “Eve! I need a little help out with printing, lend me a hand will you?” I gave my supervisor a parting glance before I came to the cubicles. “Right away.”  

Much of the same back and forth happened, I droned around the office, helped when needed, and repeat. It was uneventful, mind-dullingly boring, but there was solace in walking the same path over and over, spiced by little occurences now and then. 

However, this time, two things just refused to leave my mind, that strange text being one, but moreso the cash. No matter how nonchalant I acted, my salary has a monumental use right now. And I was in dire need of alternatives, being a promised transaction I had to make the money somehow or else lose credibility— something I would pay any sum of money over having— 

At 5:45 though, right before I left the office and called for my leave, I stumbled upon an answer to my prayers— a heaven-sent gift.— inside one of the cubicles, coincidentally blindsided by any of the security cameras.  

A wallet filled with cash— roughly  5,000 with spare coins— represented by five 1 thousand bills each. I cautioned to my left and right— my eyes racing around the room for anyone inside the room. Although as much as I wanted to, It didn’t feel right to risk tarnishing my reputation by being a thief. 

I wasn’t bothered by the prospect of stealing from someone, moreso that I felt threatened and at risk of being caught. There were still a few people inside the cubicles with me, acting as both threat and cover for me, as I wouldn’t be the sole suspect when an investigation was sent out. but with everything set so perfectly, that wallet might as well be mine.  

With a step and a snatch, the wallet swiftly found itself inside my carry-on and left the office room soon after. 

In a world as ungrateful and ruthless as this one, there was nothing shameful in mudding my own hands for my gain. The world is unfair by default, and I’m no naive idealist— hoping that by doing good I’ll supernaturally earn it back— 

I had to play by these dastardly rules or surrender my dreams in an empty vacuum. It's a simple choice in the scheme of things. 

6:00 PM, I gave the guard a parting gesture after signing my time out, but I'm not heading home yet. Although my routine might've been over and tomorrow it'll reverse back to what it was now, the differences along the way make it count.