Pyramid Schemes

The corporate pyramid rose forty floors above Chicago, each level a smaller circle of privilege. Elena stood on the thirty-eighth floor balcony, nursing her third drink of the night, watching the orange sunset bleed across the skyline.

"You did it," Marcus said, appearing beside her with fresh martinis. "Senior VP. You're officially in the penthouse tier."

Elena accepted the glass, unable to meet his eyes. Marcus had been her work friend for seven years, the one person who made the endless meetings and performance reviews tolerable. They'd survived layoffs together, celebrated each other's promotions, complained about their bosses over Friday night happy hours.

But three weeks ago, when the executive position opened up, they'd both been candidates. Marcus was more qualified—charismatic, brilliant, beloved by the team. He'd helped Elena prepare her presentation, proofread her proposal, shared his contacts and strategies like the good friend he was.

Like a fool, he was.

"Congratulations are in order," she said finally. "I heard you're taking that VP role at the startup."

Marcus's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah. It's good. Different."

"It's not about the money," he said quietly. "It's that you used my pitch. My exact presentation. The one I wrote for your practice run."

"Corporations aren't built on friendship, Marcus. They're built on advantage." The words sounded hollow even as she said them. She'd become someone else in the climb—someone sharp, solitary, willing to sacrifice whatever and whoever it took.

"You know what they say about people at the top," Marcus said, finishing his drink. "Lonely at the apex of the pyramid."

"I'll manage."

He nodded once, set down his glass, and walked away without looking back. Elena watched him disappear into the party crowd, her friend who wasn't her friend anymore, her rival she'd outmaneuvered, her conscience she could barely live with.

The last light faded from the sky. The orange was gone, leaving only gray darkness below.