Still Choosing You
Book 1 Chapter 6 — Scene 1: THE REVIEW
Monday morning arrived with another meeting invitation.
Daniel noticed it before he had finished his first cup of coffee.
Quarterly Performance Review.
Mandatory Attendance.
Conference Room B.
Nine o'clock.
He stared at the subject line for a second longer than necessary.
Then opened the attached agenda.
Metrics review.
Performance comparison.
Productivity analysis.
Operational targets.
The same words appeared every quarter.
Only lately they seemed to carry more weight.
Around him, the office was already awake.
Monitors glowed.
Keyboards clicked.
Coffee cups moved between desks.
Conversations drifted across the floor.
Normal sounds.
Normal routines.
Yet something beneath them felt different.
The new manager had been here for several weeks now.
Long enough for people to stop calling him new.
Long enough for everyone to understand that the changes weren't temporary.
At eight fifty-five, employees began filtering toward the meeting room.
Daniel entered with the rest of the team.
The room filled quickly.
Laptops opened.
Notebooks appeared.
A projector displayed the company logo against a white screen.
Someone joked quietly near the back.
A few people laughed.
The laughter faded faster than usual.
At exactly nine, the manager stood.
"Morning, everyone."
Several voices answered.
The manager clicked the remote.
A presentation appeared.
Charts.
Tables.
Percentages.
Numbers.
Rows of performance data stretching across multiple slides.
Daniel recognized most of them.
He had spent weeks helping create some of the reports.
The manager nodded toward the screen.
"First, I want to acknowledge the team's effort this quarter."
Several people straightened slightly.
The opening sounded positive.
"We've seen improvements across most categories."
Another slide appeared.
More graphs.
More percentages.
Response times had improved.
Backlogs had decreased.
Completion rates had increased.
The numbers looked good.
Objectively good.
Daniel noticed several employees exchanging small relieved glances.
The manager continued.
"You've worked hard."
A few heads nodded.
Then the next slide appeared.
The atmosphere changed.
The title at the top read:
NEXT QUARTER TARGETS
The manager pointed toward the first column.
"We'll be increasing expectations moving forward."
The room became quieter.
Not silent.
Just quieter.
Daniel looked at the figures.
For a moment he wondered if he had read them incorrectly.
The targets had increased again.
Not slightly.
Significantly.
Several numbers jumped well beyond what the team had just spent months achieving.
A hand rose near the front.
"These are the new targets?"
The manager nodded.
"Correct."
Another employee frowned.
"But we just reached the previous goals."
"Yes."
The manager smiled politely.
"Which means we now know they're achievable."
Nobody responded immediately.
The manager continued clicking through slides.
More comparisons appeared.
Different teams.
Different departments.
Different performance rankings.
Employees measured against one another.
Groups measured against one another.
Numbers stacked beside numbers.
Green indicators.
Yellow indicators.
Red indicators.
Daniel watched quietly.
The room felt different now.
The earlier relief had disappeared.
People were no longer looking at their own results.
They were looking at the new expectations.
One employee spoke again.
"Do we have additional resources planned?"
The manager folded his hands.
"At this stage, no."
A pause.
Then:
"We need to become more efficient."
The answer settled heavily across the room.
Daniel looked toward the screen again.
The targets remained unchanged.
The expectations remained unchanged.
Only the distance between reality and those expectations had grown.
The meeting continued for nearly an hour.
Questions came.
Answers followed.
Most of the answers sounded similar.
Improve efficiency.
Increase productivity.
Optimize workflows.
Enhance performance.
By the time the meeting ended, nobody seemed particularly angry.
Nobody argued.
Nobody protested.
People simply looked thoughtful.
Or tired.
The kind of tired that arrived before the work even started.
Employees filed out of the room slowly.
Conversations began immediately.
"How are we supposed to hit that?"
"I thought this quarter was already difficult."
"Those numbers can't be serious."
"They're serious."
The replies moved quietly through the crowd.
Daniel returned to his desk without joining them.
His monitor still displayed unfinished reports.
Emails waited.
Tasks waited.
Deadlines waited.
The work had not changed.
Only the expectation around it.
He sat down and opened the first report.
For several seconds, he stared at the screen.
Not because he didn't know what to do.
Because for the first time, working harder no longer felt like progress.
Across the office, conversations gradually faded.
Monitors filled with spreadsheets again.
Employees returned to work.
The targets remained on everyone's minds.
Higher than before.
Further away than before.
And somehow already expected.
Daniel moved his cursor toward the first task.
Then began working.
Because there was nothing else to do.
Scene-by-scene release. Continue only when the next scene is ready.