The Knockoff by Lucy Sykes, Jo Piazza Page B

There were 207 unread emails.
    “How do I look in this dress?” Eve asked. This new version of Eve needed a consistent stream of compliments. She kept asking if Imogen liked her dress or her shoes. Her extreme confidence was mixed with an intense insecurity.
    “It’s nice, Eve.”
    “Don’t you mean hot?”
    Imogen yawned. She needed much more than the three hours of sleep she’d gotten the night before.
    It was early, but everyone at DISRUPTTECH! looked more exhausted than the hour warranted, maybe more exhausted than Imogen.
    “There was a hackathon last night. They’ve all been awake for twenty-four hours,” Eve explained with a roll of her eyes. Imogen didn’t want to ask what exactly a hackathon consisted of, but Eve, unprompted, explained.
    “There are two types of hackathons. You can come with a preset team, or you can be matched up with people when you arrive. Then there is a prompt. ‘You have X number of hours to build something.’ Most times it’s a twenty-four-hour period, sometimes it’s less. The idea is for developers to riff on projects and put out an MVP, a minimum viable product.”
    Imogen tried to sound interested even though confusion was causing her irritation to swell. “They design a product? They construct something throughout the evening? Is there an exhibit?”
    Eve laughed her wide-mouthed cackle that revealed cavities in her back molars and was meant to embarrass Imogen for her ignorance. With every word and gesture, Eve knew how to make Imogen feel like a fool.
    “They make an app, or a website, or a new feature on an existing app or website. They build in code. They sit in front of computers all night.”
    So that was why the room was filled with near-zombies, pulling guarana-based energy drinks out of fridges in the conference’s pop-up café. She was dying for a macchiato, but Imogen didn’t see a single person drinking coffee. Were they all living post-coffee lives? Was coffee so over?
    “Those are just the devs. Most of the biz folks didn’t stay up all night. The devs love it, though. It’s geek prom. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros played for them last night and Bobby Flay came in to barbecue a whole pig at midnight.” Eve took pleasure in referring to her fellow techies as nerds, geeks and dweebs. She talked the talk, but even Imogen could see that she didn’t walk the walk. Eve was the only one in the room wearing five-inch heels. Eve truly was something all her own. Imogen had opted for understated Reed Krakoff loafers.
    At the conference check-in desk Imogen cleared her throat and announced herself with what she hoped was an air of authority. “Imogen Tate, editor in chief of
Glossy
.” When no one looked up at her she realized they all had small white earbuds plugged into their laptops, where they watched a video of a moose jumping into a swimming pool with a baby.
    After a full minute a doe-eyed girl with straight black hair and severe bangs noticed them standing there.
    “Sorry. Badge pickup was yesterday.”
    Eve interjected, “I called before we took off yesterday to explain to your boss that we would be getting here late. The name is Eve Morton. Check again. You have our badges here.” The girl rolled her eyes up to her bangs and rummaged through boxes under the table.
    “Oh. Here they are,” she said in a flat monotone. “Will you be registering for the Ping-Pong tournament?”
    Eve shook her head. “We won’t be here long enough. Maybe next year.”
    “That’s a shame. It’s going to be really competitive this year,” the girl said with a small spark of excitement.
    “Ping-Pong tournament?” Imogen whispered under her breath.
    “Every company here has two people competing in the DISRUPT Ping-Pong tourney. Shame we will miss it,” Eve replied as she looked down at the end of the table, where there were stacks of sticky name labels, the kind you peeled off a slick piece of paper, stacked high. They were blank except for an @ symbol.