Chapter Twenty-One - The Part Where You Ghost Them

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Part Where You Ghost Them

IF I WERE evil, I'd make sure my exit strategy was as tight as my sales script.

Because the best part of the game?

Is not having to say goodbye.

You see, if I were evil, I’d build the entire structure around a season.
A fleeting cycle.
Summer sales. Temporary contracts.
Like fireworks—bright, loud, and gone in a flash.

That way, when it's over?

I'm gone too.

If I were evil, I wouldn’t return texts after the final paycheck doesn’t hit right.

I wouldn’t clarify commission math.
I wouldn’t respond to the email about missing pay stubs.
I wouldn’t help you find a job now that you're broke, burnt out, and back in your hometown with no plan.

I'd vanish.

Not because I’m scared.
Not because I feel guilty.

But because I don’t need to say a word.

By the time you figure it out, you're too tired to fight.
Too proud to admit you got played.
And too alone to organize a callout.

And I’d count on that.

Because if I were evil, I wouldn’t need closure.
I’d just need turnover.
A new batch.
Fresh meat.

The next rookies arrive in April.

And if you tried to warn them?

Well, you’re just bitter.
You didn’t work hard enough.
You didn’t believe in yourself.
You didn’t trust the system.

That’s on you.

So if I were evil,
I’d train them, drain them,
then disappear without a trace.

And that would be the cleanest con of all.