Soft but nervous whispers surrounded me.

That Mirela woman was a queen bee, some sort of goddess of conceit, whereas Layla seemed to be too wounded to reply. Her eyes were cast down. It felt weird to me. A manager who falls silent and lets a fellow employee hurt her like that? I frowned.

Kono's fists were clenched. Everybody was too scared to say anything. Mirela smirked at Layla, then.

"You know that's not true, Mirela," Layla dared to reply, but it was obvious that Mirela had struck a sensitive nerve. "I do my job well."

"I know why you're saying such nonsense, Mirela!" Kono exclaimed, unable to hold back her anger anymore. "You believe you do Layla's job only because you're a control freak, and you know it."

Many members of the audience gasped. Mirela just sighed, completely unaffected.

"Mrs Nevermore must conceive Oyster as an NGO, then," she replied as if she was bored.

"What are you hinting at?" Layla asked. "I hope you're not trying to badmouth the brand with this comment."

"Oh, no. Geez, Layla. It's only constructive criticism." Constructive criticism, my ass! That woman was insufferable, but she was stronger than anyone there at that moment. She was a lioness and made the most of it. "Towards you, Layla. It's not my problem that you cannot read it as such. You need to do better, or else Mrs Nevermore shall fire you. Such a shame, you know."

"The only shameful thing around here is your attitude," Kono answered, but Mirela was still unimpressed. She was acting as if Kono didn't exist, actually – and it drove her nuts.

"Layla, look," Mirela replied after a sigh and using a warmer voice then. "I shall make an exception today. I'll postpone today's work only to solve the issues you've mentioned. I will fix them, just like you want, OK? In fact, I shall need to do some extra hours today to account for it, which I expect to be paid in full -either with money or in vacation days- of course. But I'm not accepting a cut on my salary to accommodate Kono's pathetic attempt at pleasing a customer."

Layla seemed frozen before Mirela's conceit.

"But from now on, this is over," Mirela went on. "You cannot take my generosity for granted, Layla. My time here at Oyster is gold. I'm the top designer around here. I shouldn't be wasting my time doing such mundane chores. Anyway, Nausicaa and Kono shall help me."

I took a brief glimpse around me, and I spotted a sheepish girl whose pupils shrank with surprise and fear. That must've been Nausicaa, then.

"No, I can't help you," Kono replied immediately in a foul and defiant mood while Mirela took a paper from Layla's hands in a hurry. "Got work to do now. I'm due to..."

She couldn't finish speaking. Mirela didn't allow her.

"Kono, you need to check the labels," she said in a dictator-like mood while reading. "Cut the wrong ones out, and then print and put the right ones where they belong. I see in this list that the uniform skirts for the girls' boarding school around the corner are the affected items. Great, there are over a hundred of them. Nice," she commented with sarcasm. "OK, Nausicaa, the sleeve length of the blouses is wrong. Remeasure them, cut the extra fabric, and redo the seams. Thank Apollo there are only twenty-four blouses to mend."

Not even a single 'please'. Now, I realised why everybody was in such a foul mood. Mirela was an inconsiderate asshole.

"I need this done in an hour," she said in the end. "I'll speak to the client myself, and I'll try to buy you some time. I'll be mending Mrs Mannequin's dress in the meantime. But I'll check on your progress every five minutes. I want you to work your arses off. Is that understood? Hurry."

Mirela went away from the main area we were standing in, while the rest of us stood there in sheer disbelief. Layla seemed torn. Nausicaa looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she hurried to get the blouses with a downcast attitude. Kono, however, was like a pressure cooker about to explode.

"Kono," Layla said softly, but her voice denoted a sad kind of gentleness that I found unsettling, "do as she says, please. The client might be here soon."

Kono calmed down, sighed, and left my side. The rest went away to do their chores, I assumed. Only Layla was left by my side, watching me. Then, she massaged her temples with her eyes closed.

I started to pity Layla, Kono, and the rest of the workers in Oyster. Mirela was a bad apple, but she seemed to know how to play the game. She reminded me of the dirtiest players we have got in hockey. We called such players 'pests'. Despite that, that recent, tense situation made me wonder what kind of relationship Mirela might have got with the boss, Mrs Nevermore.

When Layla opened her eyes again, I came closer to her.

"Layla O'Ryley-Caravaggio?" I asked shyly. Eros had told me her name, and that I should approach her on the very first day to introduce myself. Layla must've been a little over thirty years old, and wore her black hair in a tight bun.

"That's me," she replied with a fake smile on her face. She was making an effort to look stronger than she really was. "You must be the new shop assistant. Mrs Nevermore wouldn't stop talking about you last week! She was thrilled, actually."

"That's nice to know! Daphne Peneus. Nice to meet you, Ms O'Ryley-Caravaggio." I smiled and extended my hand to her, and she shook it. The formality in my voice seemed to make her feel uneasy, though.

"Call me Layla. We go by our first names here, except for the boss, Mrs Nevermore." Her smile became genuine then. "Come with me. I'll show you around and tell you which tasks you shall perform."

Not only did Layla look like a kind and amazingly gifted person at managing the staff of such a big company, but she was a genuinely nice person. As she was showing me around the premises, she gave instructions with a firm but soft voice whenever it was necessary, as if the incident with Mirela had not happened. She sounded reassuring when she talked.

People listened to her and followed her orders with a smile on their faces. She positively inspired leadership, but she seemed to carry an unwanted weight over her shoulders. It didn't go unnoticed, as much as the pity that she inspired.

She showed me the warehouses, the private sewing rooms where the prêt-a-porter items of the season were made, the workers' lounge -with its own canteen, changing rooms, and luxurious bathrooms-, and a room even devoted to the placement of labels, to boxing items, and bagging them -Kono was there at that moment, of course-, the different custom fittings' rooms -with themed environments-, and finally the icing on the cake: the store itself.

It was the main area where we were standing a few minutes before, but it wasn't until Layla showed me around that I got a chance to look at it in full detail. Every surface was spotless, and the items had been carefully placed. The wedding dresses' section was the most spectacular of all. Fancy swimming suits, spectacular cocktail dresses, glittery handbags, mind-blowing stilettoes, you name it. All those items were top-of-the-line – and any of them was worth my annual salary.

It was breathtaking. I had never seen so much glamour concentrated in one place, a huge place, by the way. The pictures I had seen in magazines or the images I had watched on television didn't make Oyster justice. No wonder traditional humans were so angry with the people who worked in such luxurious places, both clones and collaborators. Having such a chance was enviable.

Layla and I were behind the counter when the first customers of the day came in. She turned on some lo-fi music on the shop's hi-fi system. Some other shop assistants started talking to the clients.

Layla seemed to be much at ease after spending some time with me. That was why I was sorry to mention a thorny issue, something that was bugging me:

"Will I be required to work with Mirela at some point?"

"Yes, you will. It's more like work for her than with her, if you know what I mean."

I didn't like the sound of that, but I wasn't a fool. I had expected as much.

"You must forgive her," she went on with sadness. Her eyes became two pools of unwanted deference. "She's not a bad person. What's happened before... it's... hard to explain. She didn't use to be like that."

"Something changed? Is there a problem?" I asked, getting worried.

"Her personal issues aren't something we are entitled to discuss." She knew what was the matter, but she didn't want to talk about it. I guessed it would be rude of me to intrude. "Being a manager requires being on top of everything, being responsible for everybody in the company and their work. So, part of my responsibility is making sure the employees feel comfortable during work hours – but your personal life can intrude on the quality of work performance sometimes. I need to make sure I understand the personal circumstances of everybody's lives and make the necessary arrangements so that Oyster is a safe place for everybody. Mrs Nevermore is adamant about that. It's one of her core beliefs."

"Mirela isn't making Oyster a safe, comfortable place, though."

"I know. I'm working on it. It's just that..." She sounded frustrated. "She's... different. I believe she's a diamond in the rough – or a diamond that used to shine and now it's rough. She just needs some time, that's all. I know she believes in the quality of her fellow employees; she just doesn't show it."

"What nonsense is this, Layla?!" Kono exclaimed, appearing right behind her, with a sour expression on her face. "I'm done doing what Mirela's ordered me to do, and I find you poisoning the new recruit's mind? Seriously?!"

I raised an eyebrow at that comment. Layla seemed to be tense again.

"Mirela Dragulj-Hartenuss von Betrügerin is the most despotic clone in the entire world!" Kono went on, her pride hurting. "She doesn't deserve your understanding and your excuses. She's insufferable. I wished that was the only issue she's got, though!"

"What do you mean?" I asked with curiosity.

"The main problem here at Oyster is the fact that she's got everybody by the ovaries – and she loves it!" she replied with more bluntness than I had expected.

I loved how she had changed the expression by saying 'ovaries' instead of 'balls'. Every worker at Oyster was female as per Mrs Nevermore's request, so it made sense.

Apart from that, her vivid expressiveness and openness, in general, made her agreeable from the start. Her loud body language and hand movements went beyond anybody else's, stressing how deeply rooted her thoughts and opinions were.

"So, Mirela's got something on everybody working here?" I asked. "Including Mrs Nevermore? Including... you?"

She chuckled and left me wondering what was going on there with a quizzical look on my face.

Staring at her, I noticed that Kono's eyes were deep amber in colour. Her eyelashes were short but natural pitch black. Her skin colour was a bit darker than mine. She was one of those South Asian beauties. In fact, all my fellow colleagues there in Oyster were really good-looking. Was it because they were in the fashion industry?

"Kono, we've been over this a million times," Layla said then in a chastising mood. "You should never criticise your teammates like this. You know the reasons. One: because Mrs Nevermore wants us to row together, clones and traditional humans. We're on the same ship. And two: the..."

"Yes, yes, I know. The police would beat me up," Kono replied. Still, she looked unsatisfied. "The problem that we've got here isn't whether or not we can cooperate, clones and traditional humans. You're a clone yourself, Layla – and I like you. But not her. The problem is she. Mirela, the person. Her personality needs some serious, urgent revamping. Either that or give her the sack."

"I can't do that. Only Mrs Nevermore can – and she won't do it."

"I know she won't. Mirela's wormed her way up the ladder. Now Mrs Nevermore sees her as a friend, but she's only an ass-kisser."

"Kono, language!"

I got tense while I witnessed their argument.

"Six girls have quit their job these last couple of months already, Layla! And two more are in sick leave with a severe anxiety problem." Kono sounded in distress but tried to call nobody's attention in the shop. "The stress levels are increasing on account of Mirela, constantly. Eight girls have already said 'enough' to Mirela's ruthlessness, and they were either clones or traditional humans. Girls from both groups."

"None of these cases have proven Mirela at fault, Kono."

"To be honest, I don't know why I keep up with this job anymore. Maybe it's 'cos I need the money, but I could easily find myself another job, Layla. Look, all I'm saying is that you need to do something – urgently. What do you need, Layla? A suicide? We have to requ–"

"Requesting Mirela's data to the GSNS to prove that she's guilty isn't the way to go, Kono! We've talked about this already. It's not possible."

"Because she is..." She interrupted and corrected herself then: "She was the mistress of the former Secretary of State, Mrs Nevermore's husband? C'mon! She's not above the law. There's no other way to prove it, Layla. We need the data. She always gets her way – and manages to erase all proof that it was her. I'm tired. And I'm not the only one."

"Let me talk to her."

"I trust you, Layla. But she's... unable to change."

"How come she's such a bad person anyway?" I asked then.

"Wait and see, honeysuckle," Kono replied as if she was taking pity on me, but in a friendly way, as if she was already worried about me even though she didn't know me.

To be honest, that cute pet name sounded amazing on her lips. That and her straightforwardness had bewitched me.

"If you decide to stay here with us, you shall soon see it for yourself. The name's Kono Kahale. Second-generation, indigenous Hawaiian immigrant from the Shell neighbourhood. Traditional human by the way." Then, she extended a hand toward me with a genuine smile on her face.

The immigration wave she was referring to had taken place early that century, right after the Prevalence War had ended. Many Asian people had decided to come to Thalis around that time. That was why the vast majority of traditional humans in the Shell and Tsu Community neighbourhoods were Asian since many had stayed together.

"Daphne Peneus," I replied as I shook her hand. I felt the need to state where I came from, too. I feared that to the core. "Greek damned."

"Wow!" Her eyes went wide while she let go of my hand. "Never met one of the damned."

"I hope that's not a problem around here. I know the damned aren't, well,..."

"Welcome in many places, maybe?" Kono said, finishing my sentence. "No, it's not a problem – for me, at least. I hate such discrimination. Like those against collaborators like us." She winked at me.

"I'm so relieved to hear you say this!" I exclaimed, smiling back at her. "I was worried."

"No need to be, honeysuckle. Anyway, if you want to survive here, you need a big sister. Me. What do you say?"

I liked her already. A lot. She spoke her mind out regardless of her nanochip, and she wanted to play the role of a big sister to me.

"I'll teach you all you need to know so as not to get in trouble with Mirela."

"Great," Layla said then with satisfaction. "I'll leave you two alone then. I see you like the new partner I've assigned to you, then."

"We work in pairs usually," Kono explained to me with a growing smile on her face. "Let's hope you can last longer than the last one. I need someone to look over my shoulder... not that I'm in trouble often."

Why did I both like and fear that last bit she had said?

After some hours advising customers in the shop, I realised that the job relied a lot less on logic and human intelligence than I thought possible. Most of our clientele were practically brain-dead princesses who believed that their worth as a person could be accounted for by a price tag. The more expensive the item they bought was, the better.

Kono showed me how to make them happy, that was, make them spend a lot more money than necessary. She was a sweet-talker like no other. It didn't matter that the customers treated her as an inferior all the time. She replied respectfully but skilfully making them dig deeper into their credit cards. Manipulating them like that seemed to bring her joy. I realised I needed to act like her to survive in Oyster.

During lunchtime, she took me to the canteen. After getting some food, we sat down at a large table with some other girls wearing the same uniform.

"So, we need to make the most of our lunch break, Daphne," she spoke fast and with enthusiasm. "Gotta tell you a lot of stuff, Daphne. Before Layla, our manager was a Russian-Japanese young woman called Yumi Karenin. She was as hard-working as Layla is, but she had to quit her job by force." She was tense and serious all of a sudden.

"You seem to take it personally," I concluded while raising an eyebrow. I started eating my salad.

"I do. Yumi taught me everything. She was like a big sister to me – and Mirela screwed her over and over until she couldn't take it anymore. She ended up getting a heart condition because of stress. She stopped eating – because she couldn't eat."

"What do you mean?"

"Her diaphragm got a contracture, a bad one, Daphne. The space for food to enter the stomach was almost non-existent. The diaphragm was choking it. She could not eat. She survived solely on energy drinks for some weeks."

"What?!" I almost spat the food in my mouth.

"She had to quit the job. Doctor's orders. Either that or go on working here, enduring Mirela's bullying until she got a heart attack or died of malnutrition."

"Oh, dear..."

"Mirela's a control freak, the worst of the worst," she went on explaining as she ate some noodles. Every now and then, she moved her hands and her chopsticks while telling me what had happened. "Being a manager is a hard job as it is. Layla shouldn't be forced to deal with Mirela's constant attacks and dirty tricks. Layla is assuming responsibility for everything, taking the fall for things she shouldn't. Just like Yumi. Mirela just wants to boss around and look good when Mrs Nevermore is looking. The only reason she's accepted some responsibility today is that a crucial marketing campaign is about to see the light soon... and that means Mrs Nevermore is around a lot more often than usual. Mirela wants to look good, you know. She's a stupid peacock, showing her amazing feathers to the boss."

She was rolling her eyes and had a weird, prideful expression on her face that I found amusing. She could've been a great actress.

"Which is it, this campaign? A fashion show, or...?"

"The BioBank's canvas, girl!" She was smiling widely when she said that. "During reconstruction, a huge canvas needs to be hung over the façade. Haven't you seen it? On the canvas, there's an ad. Mrs Nevermore has been recently negotiating with the BioBank's people, like many other companies in Thalis, to get an ad for Oyster on the canvas. Mustang won the bid for the first week's ad campaign. This week's ad is displaying Nöet et Phandon's products. Only one week remains after that -because the works have been delayed for a week due to technical issues-, but only two bids have progressed so far: Oyster and MissTrust, Mrs Nevermore's fashion-designer rival."

"How do you win such a bid?"

"You need to present a spectacular ad, and pay a huge sum of money."

"So, Mrs Nevermore must be in a design-frenzy mode, and getting ready all her money to win the bid."

"You bet," she replied with satisfaction. "She's even convinced some rich friends of hers to lend her money, to make sure she wins. Winning this bid is very important for Mrs Nevermore. That's why Mirela is so desperate to call her attention."

"Oh, really?"

"Mirela wants to help her design the ad – and the chosen swimsuit that shall appear in it. She just craves popularity, since all of Oyster's 'normal' designs here at the shop get labelled under the company name – not hers. But winning the bid might get her the stardom she thinks she deserves. Her name would appear everywhere.

"The thing is that Mrs Nevermore insists on it being solely a design of hers. Period. She's been rejecting Mirela's help from the beginning. It's driving Mirela nuts. It's amazing, however, the passion Mrs Nevermore is putting into the project. It's been years ever since she was so motivated to design something!

"These last few years, she simply designed the general style line of the company, but that was it. She let her designer team do the actual job. Four clone designers, bewitching concepts and styles all of them, including Mirela's. Her personality sucks, but she's talented. That's the reason why Mirela has become a control freak these last few years. Mrs Nevermore had left a void of power, and Mirela wanted that power. But now..."

"So, Mirela's quite ambitious, isn't she?"

"Too much. She thinks she deserves more than she's got." She sighed. "I want to dethrone her, Daphne. Will you help me?"

That girl had balls – I meant ovaries.

Hello, my dear sugar cubes!

Sorry for this long chapter! A lot going on, huh? 😉 What kind of problems has Mirela got? Will Daphne dethrone her? Will Kono get her in trouble?

Stay tuned to know more! 😊

XOXO

MS