Callie wanted this job to be the start of a real career, but on her first morning she couldn't take a single call. The Storyland Support Centre hummed around her. Rows of agents talked into headsets and typed on bright screens. Callie sat at a spare desk in the corner. Her headset was cracked. One earcup dangled by a wire, and the microphone flopped loose. A call came in. She pressed the button. "Storyland support, this is Callie—" The line hissed, then died. She heard nothing. The caller was gone before she said her name. It happened again. And again. Each dropped call flashed red on her screen. She was tall and slim, and she folded her arms tight, staring at the useless plastic in her hands. The agent beside her leaned over. "That headset's been broken for months," he said. "They keep meaning to toss it." Callie's stomach sank. Her first day, and she looked like she couldn't do the job. She pushed back her chair and went looking for a fix. The shift lead found her first. Wilson Ashford ran the floor, and he wore a blue polo and grey slacks like a uniform he'd chosen himself. He walked the aisle with an easy smile, checking screens over shoulders. He stopped at her desk and saw the dropped-call count. "That's not your fault," Wilson said. He picked up the dead headset, turned it once, and set it down. "Nobody takes calls on garbage." "I need something that works," Callie said. "I can't sit here dropping people all day." Wilson thought for a second. "Supply closet's dry. But I've got something." He crossed to his own desk and came back holding a headset she didn't expect. It was sleek and black, with padded earcups and a colored strip of light along each side. A gaming headset, built for long hours and clear sound. "It's mine," he said. "I use it for tournaments at home. The mic's better than anything they'd give you." He held it out. "Take it. Just don't spill coffee on it." Callie took it and slid it on. The earcups sealed out the floor noise. She plugged the cord into her tower and waited for the next call. It rang. She pressed the button. "Storyland support, this is Callie. How can I help?" The voice came through clear. She heard every word. She walked the caller through a router reset, step by step, and the line stayed strong the whole way. When the customer thanked her and hung up, Callie's screen flashed green. Her first solved call. She grinned and looked up to thank Wilson, but he was already three desks away, helping someone else. Callie could work now. But she glanced down at the borrowed headset and knew it wasn't hers. Sooner or later, Wilson would want it back — and she'd need to prove she was worth keeping a real one.