New Pals?

Me and In-Young strutted toward the cafeteria like we were long-lost besties finally reunited after ten years on different continents.

Except—we were not besties.

Not yet, at least.

We'd known each other for approximately… checks calendar... An hour? Okay, maybe half an hour.

But the way we were clutching each other like survivors of a zombie apocalypse, you'd think we'd fought battles together.

Hand-in-hand. Skipping through the battlefield of corporate despair.

Let's just pray my actual best friend never witnesses this betrayal—or I'm going to wake up in a ditch, 6 feet under, with a handmade tombstone that says "She chose cafeteria clout over loyalty."

Relax, Yuna. It's a survival alliance.

As we waltzed down the hallway, In-Young started telling me all about her illustrious life.

Apparently, she's been in this company for five years.

FIVE. YEARS.

Girl's practically a fossil.