2. Report

Saroma did what anyone would do. He's out there at his desk, alone, and then went home when it was time. He just figure that if he didn't have to get rid of all the papers and actually had to enter in all that data, then he would just quit. Fuck it, he thought. If they expected him to do something that was impossible he would just resign. There were so many drawbacks, but it wasn't his fault or his problem.

The next morning, as he was on his way to his cubicle, he was stop by Rocca. He had coffee on a shirt and a not so happy look on his face. Saroma would have asked about the numerous files, but he knew it wasn't the right time to ask. Saroma knew he had to stand out but he also didn't want to be associated with negative events, such as spilled coffee.

" i'm afraid to ask..." Saroma thought to himself. He had struggled in the past with social anxiety, and was very sensitive to all types of confrontation. To normal people, such a simple question is trivial, but Saroma was different.

Saroma walked to his desk. Making a trail, papers flew out as if there was somebody already in there. When he looked over the wall, Saroma saw a man sitting at his desk and taking notes.

"Who are you? Why are you sitting in my desk?" Saroma asked but the man looked honestly lost for words.

He introduced himself, "I am called Quary. Who are you? Are you new? You were here too?" His quick questions made Saroma very suspicious.

Saroma knew that security was taken extremely seriously in the building. They were even allowed to have their own names out of higher chances of building relationships with other coworkers. Was this even allowed?

"I'm Saroma." He said shortly. Quary stood up from the desk.

He asked, "That's not... your real name, is it?" He studied Saroma.

"No...?" Saroma said uncomfortably. Quary paused, studying him again.

Quary eventually shook his head and said, "Good! Just checking! Just testing." He stepped away.

Saroma set his blue lunch box down on his desk and greeted Baser and another coworker. They pushed the shredder to Saroma's workspace, blocking the aisle just enough for one person to get by at a time.

Baser question him about who he just saw leaving the vicinity, "Hey, um... was that Quary?" Saroma felt that this conversation couldn't go anywhere good.

"Yes. Saw him sitting at my desk when I walked up." Saroma felt it was best to just tell the truth. What did he have to lose?

Baser pulled him aside and spoke quietly, " that's against the rules he is not allowed to do that."

"Should I report it then?" Saroma asked.

Baser pressed his lips together and checked the area for eavesdroppers. Spoke in a hushed tone, "No. I don't want anything to do with it. If you report it, you may be accused of something too. We all may have to take another class on company policy."

"Like, what would I be accused of?" He asked, demonstrating his naïve side. Baser was only quiet.

He took a step back and smiled resuming the friendly disposition from before. "Well, if you need the main printer, I suppose that we can drag that over here too!" He joked.

Saroma laughed awkwardly. It was only because his co-workers were acting so very strange.

As soon as Quary had left, the others dispirited as well, distancing themselves from a potential disaster. Saroma didn't care to make friends but only money. THe salary was very good, but the work environment was suspicious. He could deal with Moritie, and the false names, but Quary was very suspicious. Baser seemed to know the right of it— Quary meant trouble.

Saroma tried not to think about it too much, but he found himself looking over the cubical wall in search of where Quary might be. He even tried to figure out what he was doing adn what information he possibly could have been after.

By 11 AM, he was spreading old papers, while trying to maintain new data. After a while it was rinse and repeat. He thought that it was unfair how the guy before him just left his area in a mess.

By the time 3:00 rolled around, he was fed up with the excessive, unnecessary amount of work. A woman dropped a whole manilla folder on his desk without a word and he blew up!

Saroma was not the type of person to cause trouble or a scene, but this case was different. He shouted, "Why does everyone keep giving me new shit?! Can't you see that this is not where it goes!" Despite his section being somewhat dreary from the dim lights, he brought quite a bit of attention to himself.

It wasn't before too long that he was having to stay late to answer question for Rocca. "So, what happened today? You have a good day? Need to talk about anything?" He approached the subject calmly and gently.

Saroma thought about the situation with Quary adn Baser, which made him faulted at first. He caught himself and then began explaining exactly what had made him angry, "I'm only frustrated with the amount of work I have to do as opposed to the amount of actual work I'm doing. It's no big deal, though."

"You are unhappy with your hours?" Saroma didn't even have time to question how Rocca got to that conclusion.

Saroma sat forward in his chair and clarified, "No, sir, I was only frustrated with my personal rhythm of work. I just haven't developed it outside of purging the old data." Saroma watched Rocca's expression very carefully.

"Oh, I see. I do hope you get your workspace more organized." The man placed his hand on the armrests of the swivel chair and pulled himself up and out of the chair. "I guess that I'll see you tomorrow, Saroma. I look forward to working more with you." He grabbed his coat and met Saroma at the door.

"Same here, sir." Saroma meekly said. The two men shook hands and then parted. They took the same path, but they did not speak. Rocca even held the door open for Saroma but still didn't say another word to him.

Leaving the security doors, he saw Koiz still working. "Hey, Koyz, can I have my phone?" He asked as the over-glorified receptionist returned his personal device back to him.

Koiz smiled and opened the locker behind the desk, "Nope." He said jovially with a smile still plastered on his face.

Saroma stood by the desk, waiting for Koyz to stop playing around and give him his phone back.

"I was being serious, y'know." Koiz packed his blue lunch box in his book bag and threw it over his shoulder.

"I know and I still can't do that."

Saroma watched Koiz round the counter, "Um, what? Is that even legal?" He exclaimed.

Koiz explained a little bit more, "The company confiscated it because there was a signal coming from it. Don't worry, you'll get it back." Saroma stopped him from leaving.

He was desperate to get his phone back. "I need my phone. What do I have to do to get it back? Who do I have to talk to?" Saroma wasn't addicted to his phone, but his sister-in-law was nearing her due date. He couldn't afford cutting communication off with his family.

Koiz explained as much as he could, although he just wanted to go home, "Look, you broke the rules. Leave it in your car next time. I can't get it for you." He took a step away, but Saroma grabbed his arm. He gripped it hard and the thought of cutting off his circulation influenced his voice.

"Koiz, I need to talk to my family— I have an emergency! What kind of man are you who denies another of that?" Koiz jerked away, and gave him a concerned look.

Koiz only said, "You've signed the consent form and now you have to deal with it. The earliest I can give it back to you is Friday. I'm going home!"

"Make it tomorrow." Saroma reached out as if he was gripping his arm again, but summoned the self-control to not touch him again.

Pressured, Koiz replied, "I'll see what I can do." He turned and walked out of the building.

Saroma realized that their relationship was damaged from this. But something else bother him too. Why did he act like that?

As Saroma shut the car door, he looked at his hands and wondered why he acted so far out of character. His owned a flip phone and all of his contacts were written down at home. It wasn't even that important to him, but that wasn't how he acted. That wasn't the person he wanted to be.

Saroma decided that he acted desperately because he was stressed. Stress-fed desperation. He pulled out of the parking lot and decided to treat himself to a relaxing night of Netflix.