On his first day on the job, Leo stood in front of the full-length mirror in the company lobby and carefully adjusted his tie. The young man in the mirror had a clear gaze, reflecting the nervousness and anticipation typical of someone just entering the workforce. Today was his first day at “Apex Creative,” and as a junior copywriter, he felt he was about to embark on a journey full of challenges and opportunities.
HR led him through the open-plan office, where colleagues gave him polite smiles and nods. Leo was assigned a desk by the window, where sunlight streamed perfectly onto the tabletop. His direct supervisor, Sarah, the department director, was a decisive woman. After briefly outlining the work流程, she handed him a thick brand manual.
“Read it carefully—it’s the soul of the company,” Sarah said before hurrying away.
Leo opened the manual. The first page listed the company’s core values: “Innovation, Passion, People-First.” He took a deep breath, feeling he’d come to the right place.
Over the next three months, Leo absorbed new knowledge like a sponge. He worked late into the night, revising countless drafts of proposals, all just to earn a single word of approval from Sarah. He gradually got used to relying on coffee to stay awake, to catching the last bus at 2 a.m., and to putting on a fake smile in front of clients.
Until one day, he discovered that Sarah had taken credit for his idea during a meeting and won the annual award for it. In that moment, something inside Leo shattered.
As the days went by, Leo learned to stay silent, to read people’s expressions, and to “choose sides” at the right moments. He no longer brought up those out-of-the-box ideas, but instead focused on executing safe, reliable plans that would deliver on KPIs. He became efficient—and numb.
On his last day at work, Leo stood once more in front of the full-length mirror in the company lobby. The man in the mirror was dressed in a crisp suit, but his eyes held a touch more weariness and world-weariness. He gathered his personal belongings. The once-passionate junior copywriter had now become a senior planner.
Sarah walked over, exchanged a few perfunctory pleasantries, thanked him for his hard work, and wished him a bright future. Leo responded politely, but felt nothing inside.
Stepping out the company entrance, Leo glanced back at the towering office building. The sun was still shining brightly, but he knew that something had been left behind behind those revolving doors forever.
He pulled out his phone, ready to hail a ride to the airport. A news alert popped up on the screen with the headline: “Apex Creative Announces New Round of Layoffs to Optimize Cost Structure.”
Leo paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile. He recalled the phrase “People First” he’d seen on his first day on the job, and suddenly found it somewhat ironic.
He got into the car, which slowly merged into the traffic. Leo watched the street scenes flash by outside the window, feeling neither the relief nor the sadness he’d expected. He simply felt as though he’d come full circle—from arriving full of anticipation to leaving in disappointment—which was nothing more than a routine part of the corporate ecosystem.
The car passed an intersection, and the red light came on. Leo looked at the dense stream of traffic ahead and suddenly realized that, whether joining or leaving a company, he had never truly stepped away from this massive, ceaselessly running machine.
The green light came on, and the car started moving again. Leo leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
Perhaps the real resignation isn’t leaving a company, but leaving behind the version of himself who once believed in “people-oriented.”
