Megan

It took four floors of staff for Bettie to be thee Bettie.

Megan worked in Bettie's mail room. Daily, she created three large piles: Dangerous, Bettie Bombs, and Good News. Dangerous got destroyed immediately. Bettie Bombs were read on Bettie's social media platforms for everyone to laugh at. They fell into the category of Hate Mail but if the messages were too convoluted or random, or if the sender ironically insulted Bettie, she could mock them without naming names. She got the idea from the last era of television: something to do with Mean Tweets.

Not that anyone remembered Tweets. Megan had heard her mother talk about them.

The Good News seemed to be Bettie's favorite part of the day; full of flowery compliments, mostly pandering to Bettie's ego, but sometimes people shared wonderful stories of how a bit of Style advice from Bettie earned them a date or a job promotion.

The largest part of the mail room belonged to the Sponsor and Partnership receiver. Companies from around the world sent Bettie items to try, and Kyle decided what made it to Bettie. Kyle had the best understanding of Bettie's Brand, they worked to develop and adapt the Brand each year. The staff could take home anything not On-Brand.

Megan appreciated Bettie's generosity.

"Megan, did you see the memo?"

Megan turned from her computer, smiling up at Bethany. Bethany worked for Kyle, and did the initial sorting of the Sponsor and Partnership desk. She always looked sharp: Styling, Clothes, and Humor; all part of her benefits package, being lower management. Before coming to Bettie Bethany had been an influencer, more small-scale, of course.

"The memo?"

"The Video Department is here today filming Behind Bettie."

Megan nodded. "Yes, I got the memo."

"And you chose to wear that?"

Megan looked down at her trousers and blouse. "Umm, yes, I did."

"Hmm." Bethany tilted her head, tossing a small, plain cardboard box between her hands. "That was...bold."

Megan frowned, "I beg your pardon?"

Before Bethany replied, Star called out and Bethany glided off on tan, shapely legs and high heels. Megan had the urge to run to the bathroom to check where her appearance fell short but she never got the chance: the arrival of Bettie could be felt by a sudden flood of excitement. The door to the mail room opened, voices elevated, pulses sped up. She'shere, Bettie has arrived.

Megan turned her potted succulent so the "nicer" side faced out. She held a letter mid-opening when Bethany brought Bettie past her desk.

"Megan sorts the mail," Bethany said with inauthentic sunniness.

"Oh yes," Bettie almost sang. "She selects the Bettie Bombs, right?"

Megan tried her best smile. "Right."

Bettie turned to the person holding the camera and light rig. "I love reading Bettie Bombs," the boss crooned, smile a million megawatts thanks to the alarmingly high number of tooth whitening samples she'd received in the past month after mentioning in a live FaceGram that she loved coffee. "It keeps me humble."

The cameras swung to Megan, who felt the urge to smile, too. Someone next to the camera operator cringed and tapped the operator's shoulder, who swung the camera back to Bettie.

"The mail room is also where my amazing partners send me new products to try out," Bettie went on. "For example, Bethany goes through the products sent here. And it looks like she has one now. Bethany, what is that?"

Bethany nearly shoved her hands behind her back to hide the small box, and Megan knew that Bethany had yet to open it. "Ummm--"

"Let's see," Bettie nudged, professional pleasantness preserved.

Bethany handed the box over, smiling again. "Surprise! I hope you like it."

There was the slightest furrow to Bettie's perfect brow, but it vanished in a blink. "I'm sure I will. I'm going to guess...a small-batch created skin cream."

Bethany smiled.

The brown paper wrapping came off the plain box without struggle, which made Megan frown. Usually, mail had to be secured. She couldn't imagine how that made it through the post.

Bettie turned to the camera with an excited grin, shoulders hiked to her ears, as she let the paper drop. "This is an unannounced Unboxing."

There was no print on the outside of the box, but when opened Megan saw handwriting inside the lid.

Bettie raised the lid eye-level, eyebrows high as she read the inscription. "Truth Serum." Bettie sounded thoroughly confused, and looked back to the camera, blinking now as though the light was too much. Swiftly the expression was replaced with delighted laughter. "Of course, I've already used this! I only ever tell my audiences the truth. But I also like to share with my team as well."

When Bettie turned Bethany put her hand out, but Bettie's wide, green eyes lit on Megan and her smile went full super-power. "Megan, I'd love for you to try this. Tell us what you think. Obviously it will be the truth." She giggled at her own wit.

Megan took the box with a sudden flush of stage fright. A small bottle with a cork lid rested in the shredded paper inside. Pulling out the stopper, she caught a pleasant scent; honey and warm sun and something like cinnamon, but not quite.

Remembering the camera, Megan smiled again and dabbed a bit of the substance on her wrist. It came out warm and oily, and she rubbed her wrists together before taking another sniff.

Megan forgot the camera. "This smells so warm...it makes me feel...safe."

In a tinkle of laughter, Bettie put a hand to her stomach. "A smell that makes you feel safe?"

Megan nodded. "It does. This is wonderful."

Bettie raised one eyebrow, still smiling. "Well, you can keep it."

Megan nodded, and put the cork back into the bottle.

"Aren't you going to say thank you?" Bettie teased, giving Megan a little jolt with her elbow.

Startled, Megan looked up, horrified at her lack of manners. "Sorry. Yes, thank you."

Bettie beamed, turning back to the cameras. "People like Megan are the reason I do this. I just love to help people."

The camera people all stifled laughter, and Megan got the terrible feeling that her face might have said something she hadn't intended. But really? People like Megan are the reason I do this? How pompous.

When Bettie moved on, Megan let out a breath of relief. But sadly, the cameras stayed put.

"Megan," a woman, who had pink lanyard around her neck and two cell phones for some reason, called out. "What's it like being a cog in the Bettie machine?"

The room got very quiet, and Megan stared at the woman. What was this game?

"What do you mean?"

"Bettie. Thee Bettie. Do you think you're lucky to be part of this organization?"

Megan shrugged. "Well, a job's a job."

"But what's Bettie really like?"

A plume of perfume returned and Megan found Bettie next to her. "What's happening here?"

"We're asking Megan what it's like to work for you."

Bettie laughed again, and Megan realized the sound was fake. "Well, be candid, Megan. Pretend I'm not here."

"Well, I like quite a few of the people I work with. The office is close to where I live. And I get holidays."

The room held its breath. Bettie blinked twice before asking "That's it?"

Megan shrugged. "Well...yeah."

Bettie's eyes got dark. "That's all you have to say?" She turned to the group surrounding her. "Bethany, why'd we hire this one?"

There were a few gasps but Bettie didn't care.

"I mean, I can see why she's in the mail room but why isn't she at least grateful?"

Megan's mouth dropped open, hurt making her eyes sting and embarrassment heating her face. "What?"

Bettie didn't hear her. "Jesus Christ, let's cut this bit and move on."

An awkward pause, then the woman with the phones interrupted it. "Uh, Bettie. We're live, remember?"

It would have been comical if you weren't the one the woman had insulted. Bettie's face went blank, and behind that carefully contoured makeup job you could almost smell the wheels turning on how to fix this. The wheel eventually landed on outrageous laughter. "Of course I'm just kidding!" Bettie patted her own chest, trying to control her own hilarity. "People like Mary are the reason I do this, after all."

"Megan." She bit out her own name, hands clutching the small cardboard box tighter.

"What?" Again with those big, green, innocent eyes.

"My name is Megan." Somehow, her voice didn't shake.

"Uh, Bettie?" Kyle was there now, face pale. "Maybe we should call it done."

"Don't be ridiculous! I'm getting to know the little people."

Another hiss as a few people gasped.

At the back of the scrum, Megan caught Bethany's eye. She had no idea when the woman had joined the crush of camera people, note takers and internet moderators, but now the blonde woman mouthed two words so clearly: Thank you.

Megan looked at the box in her hand, then back at Bethany.

"We just got a notice. Starbucks, Colgate, and Louis Vuitton have dropped you," Kyle went on. "I'm cutting the feed. Kill it!"

The woman with the lanyard smiled as she typed away on one of her phones. "Feed ended," she reported, looking up at Megan with a grin. "Nice work, kid."

"What?"

With a mysterious wink she turned away and headed to Bethany. Megan noticed the fist bump they shared before Kyle appeared in front of her again.

"So this is what happens next," he was saying, eyes on his phone.

"What happens next? I don't even know what just happened."

"You're trending, Megan. So we start small, find a stylist, talk to a hair dresser--"

"What?"

"And then we come up with the name. We want to make sure your Message fits your Brand right from the start. It's a big decision, but I want it to feel right for you."

"But...why me?"

"People loved your honesty. They want to know where you get your clothes, your favorite foods--"

"This is insane."

"We can't let a bunch of people try to make their own niches." Kyle's voice dropped as though confiding something very private. "These companies need someone to tell people to buy their things. Advertising doesn't do it anymore. They need someone to tell people."

"But Kyle, that is advertising."

Kyle shrugged. "Yeah, but people don't know that."

Then he walked away, leaving her clutching that stupid cardboard box, softened from the sweat of her palms. What the hell was happening? "I don't want this," she insisted, shouting at his back.

A hand relieved her of the carboard box. Bethany stood before her, smiling. "Don't worry Megan, you're going to do a great job."

"At what?"

Bethany shrugged. "At being the next thing, of course."

"What?"

But Bethany was walking away, too.

"I don't want this," she repeated over the sounds of people on their phones, the camera crew taking apart their equipment. "Hello?"

Megan turned back to her desk to find Bettie in her seat, hands resting on the mail Megan had been working on.

"Can I have your job?" the woman asked, desperation making her features almost cartoon-like. "Please?"

Megan nodded, very weary all of a sudden. "Yeah, sure."

"Megan!" someone called across the room.

"I promise I won't let you down."

Megan sighed, gazing down at the beautiful woman that had been her boss until mere minutes ago. "Whatever," she muttered, then crossed the room to Kyle, who had called her.

Time to decide what Megan stood for.