I just posted on the firm’s Slack congratulating Maya for winning the design competition and I added like a bunch of fire emojis and the party popper one and I even said something about her vision being so clear and like, totally amazing and I felt so gross typing it out, like my fingers wanted to just CRUMBLE and not send it, but I did anyway cause everyone else was doing it and I had to blend in, right? And now I’m just staring at it, my stupid little message, and I want to just delete it so bad, but then everyone would notice, and that would be even WORSE. My design, it was like... I spent weeks on it, staying up super late, drinking too much cheap coffee and drawing stuff on every scrap of paper I could find and I even like, made a whole mood board and found all these cool materials that were totally sustainable and budget-friendly and I thought it was really good, like innovative and fresh, not just another glass box building, you know? And I was so excited to present it, I practiced my pitch like a million times in front of my cat and she didn’t even judge me, and then when I finally showed it to the senior architects, they just kind of nodded and said "interesting" and "bold" and then moved on super fast, and I knew right then, like, it was never gonna happen. No one even really looked at the details, all the little things I put in there that were SO smart. And then Maya’s design wins, and it’s... fine, I guess. It’s pretty, but it’s just kinda... normal. Like, nothing new. It’s exactly what they always do, and that’s why they picked it, probably, cause it’s SAFE and predictable and everyone knows it will make money and no one wants to take a chance on something actually cool. And now I have to pretend to be happy for her and smile when I see her and be like "OMG CONGRATS" and it feels like a physical pain in my stomach and my chest and I just wanna scream, cause it’s not fair, and I worked so hard and they just... overlooked me completely. And I need this job, like, I REALLY need this job, and if I complain or say anything, I’ll just be "difficult" or "immature" and then I’m back to like, doing those random freelance gigs that barely pay for ramen and electricity, and I can’t go back to that... not again.