Buttercup

Is there anything worse than a bad coworker? Surprisingly, yes! Melting to death. Fun thing is, I’ve had a run-in with both before. Name’s Seline. Quick question, is that a hard name to remember? Apparently so, because my coworkers always settle for ‘cutesy’ nicknames like ‘Buttercup’, ‘Goldie Luxe’ or ‘Stick of Butter’, and EVEN if I happen to be a stick of butter (I do), it doesn’t excuse the greater problem. Problem is, there’s a divide. A difference between how people like me are seen and people like Corto. Corto, where to begin with that ‘extra virgin’? He’s brash, beloved and a total bully. The type of cocky prick you think TV shows are exaggerating until you meet someone like him for real. People like him are so bad, it makes you just want to sink into the floor and never come back.

8:00pm. The Pan. Another slow shift. After what happened last time I’m avoiding Corto. Not that I can’t handle him, but I just don’t want to. Maybe I am what everyone thinks I am. Just soft, palatable, and a-

“Buttercup!” An indistinguishably annoying voice calls out from behind me. Who else but Corto? I turn to hear what he has to say.

“Hey, just so you know, the higher ups appreciated our cooking last time, BOTH of us.” He gives a pause to let that sink in. “So that little meltdown you had? So unnecessary, okay? Unprofessional.” 

“Got it,” I nod, giving the barest effort I could muster without outright seeming rude as I walk off. 

“And hey,” he grabs me, his gaze lowers to my body, scarred from last time. “Just some advice. If you can’t manage your emotions, maybe stick to the cookies and cupcakes, okay? Leave the heavy cooking to us oils.” 

I could feel myself sizzling with rage. It was happening again – I was reaching melting point. 

“Oh, seriously?” I retorted, unable to contain my frustration any longer. “You talk to me about emotions? You can't even get into the same pan as water without starting a fight! And you parade yourself around as some pure extra virgin, but we all know it's not true. I'm the one who actually adds any flavour here – you're just there to coat the pan and act like you're essential.”

His eyes widened as I lay into him. He’s clearly never been stood up to before.

 “Uh, Buttercup, y-you’re melting again.”

“Yup,” I smile. I am melting straight into the floor. And for once, I feel great.