All language subtitles for Corner.Office.2022.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264

On the day
after the first snow fell,

I parked my car in the lot
and carried my things inside.

It felt like
the first day of school.

I was anxious, sure,
but also full of hope.

I could view the world
as something ominous, looming,

or I could choose
to see the light.

I chose to see the light.

The woman in reception smiled.

There was something about her.

I knew then that I'd come
to the right place.

Elevator's to the right.

I had gotten used
to being one of the leaders
in my last job.

Not a manager
or even a team leader,

but someone who could sometimes
show other people what to do.

I was determined to build up
the same position at
my new place of work

as soon as I could.

Finally, I would be
able to blossom
to my full potential...

become the person
I've always wanted to be.

A person to be reckoned with.

I knew I had to make
a platform for myself

and show the boss
what I was capable of
from day one.

I shared my desk with Rakesh,

who helped me
with various practical details.

That's how
the coffee machine works.

I guess it was
a welcome break from work,

because he was always
coming up with new things

I ought to know about.

Rubber bands.

In here are paper clips.

And this is where
the pencils go.

This is how the blinds work.

I arrived 15 minutes
early every morning,

then followed my own timetable
for the rest of the day.

Fifty-five minutes
of concentrated work,

followed by
a five-minute break.

I was confident
I'd adapt quickly

and soon be on the way
to success.

Slowly but surely,
I built up a profile

of my closest neighbors,

their character,
and place in the hierarchy.

Shannon had been
at the company
longer than Rakesh,

though not as long as Carol.

Carol seemed knowledgeable,

but also the sort of person
who thought she knew everything

and liked being right.

Shannon, look,

you do see what it says
right here, don't you?

Shannon was
the kind of person
who laughs at everything,

even when whatever's
just been said...

- Right. Right, right.
- ...isn't funny at all.

Because it says that.
I get it.

Can you explain it
to me, though?

Everyone turned to Carol
when they didn't dare
approach the boss.

Opposite Carol sat Mitchell.

- Open the door.
- He'd been there longer

- than the rest combined...
- Carefully, yes.

- ...but how he had managed
that feat...
- Carefully open the door,

- and to your right
you will find...
- ...wasn't immediately clear.

Yes, the umbrella.

Carol had a framed
child's drawing
near her computer.

It showed a sun
sinking into the sea,

but the drawing was wrong.

On the horizon,
there were land masses

sticking up on both sides
of the sun,

which, of course,
is impossible.

I wondered if she was aware
of its flagrant inaccuracy.

Can I help you?

Maybe she was blinded
by her emotional involvement.

No matter what
the circumstances,

the child deserved to be
made aware of their mistake,

so that the error
could be avoided next time.

You, uh, want a cup of coffee?

Okay.

Mitchell's lengthy tenure

had, unfortunately,
not made him secure.

He seemed constantly
in mortal fear.

Did you hear
about the layoffs?

I stuck to my schedule
and did not allow myself

to be disturbed
in the middle of a period

with small talk
or coffee breaks.

Sometimes I felt like taking
a leak after five minutes

but always made sure
I sat out the whole period.

It was character-building,

and, obviously, the relief
of finally easing the pressure

was that much greater.

I was heading that way
when I first discovered
the room.

A musty smell hit my nose,

but I don't remember
thinking much about it.

Oh...

a room.

By the end of the day,
I had almost forgotten

ever having looked
through the door
leading to that extra space.

A few days later,
I found myself looking
for copy paper.

Despite all the exhortations
to ask about things,

I was unwilling
to expose myself
to humiliation and derision

by displaying gaps
in my knowledge of the setup.

The last place I'd worked,
there was a strictly
enforced policy

regarding the use
of office supplies.

It occurred to me
that hiding the paper
in an unlikely place

might be a strategy
to avoid waste.

At first, I couldn't
find the light.

I felt along the walls
on either side of the door,
then gave up.

What an odd place
to put a light switch.

I was quickly able to ascertain
that there was no paper there,

but, even so, I got
an immediate sense

that there was something
special about this place.

I went out,

closed the door...

and switched off the light.

I opened the door again,

just to make sure the light
wasn't still on in there.

You know, everyone else
has a little wall,

or divider, between the desks...

and we don't.

I think I asked for one
a while back, but cutbacks.

Doesn't matter.

We got nothing to hide.

We try to think about the floor.

Of course.

- Naturally.
- Hm.

I was annoyed
I hadn't thought
about the shoe covers myself.

Obviously, I would have,
if I'd had time.

Andrew had managed to make me
feel both stupid and insecure,

when, in actuality, I was one
of the smartest there.

Don't people usually try
to smooth over that sort
of remark with a joke

or a little smile?

Besides, it was just rude
to walk off like that.

I reasoned that this
55-minute period
was already ruined.

I would just have to sit it out

and start again
with the next one.

It would be a simple task
to unscrew the broken one

and replace it with a new one.

I couldn't believe
no one had done anything

about such a simple problem.

When combined
with his long sideburns

and the rings under his eyes,

Rakesh's jacket
made an unusually
scruffy impression.

To be honest, his jacket
had been bothering me

since first thing that morning,

even before that nonsense
with the shoe covers.

I seriously disliked
that jacket.

I had to do something
to clear my mind.

That's when I went
into the room
for the third time.

My suit fit better
than I thought it did,

and there was something
about the way it hung

that made my body look virile.

I looked incredibly relaxed,

simultaneously confident
and aware.

I had never thought of myself
as attractive,

but I realized it was time
to start doing so...

because the best thing
was the look in the eyes.

This was a new asset--

a pair of eyes that
could demand anything

and get it.

Rakesh carried out his duties

with the same
devil-may-care attitude

as everyone else.

He used the phone
whenever he liked,

took breaks whenever
he felt like it.

He would spend eons
gazing off into the distance

without it apparently having
anything to do with work.

Now and then, he would even
try to talk to me.

- What's happening?
- I would rebuff him,

gently but firmly,

usually with a simple
gesture of the hand.

It worked.

Rakesh had an irritating habit
of shoving his papers
across his desk

every time he started
something new,

which meant that eventually,

maybe not today,
maybe not tomorrow,

but someday soon,

Rakesh's desktop
would overflow.

Rakesh.

- Yeah?
- Do you have a minute?

- Yeah. Yeah, sure.
- Take a look around you.

Uh...

What do you see?

Uh...

- Yeah, I don't know.
- We should deal
with this right away.

- W-with what?
- Before this gets out of hand,

I want you to hear me out.
I think you'll see
what I'm saying.

Let's take a walk.

Okay.

- Yeah. All right.
- Yeah. Let's take a walk.

It would be best
to deal with this in private.

There's something
I've noticed.

What?

You don't put
your old files back

whenever you take out new files.

- Wait, what did you say?
- Well, what I'm saying is

that you're letting
all of your papers

spread out
all over your desk.

Now, soon, they're
gonna be on my side,

and then they'll be
encroaching in my space.

Now, I am, as I'm sure
you can understand,

very eager to utilize
the full space of my desk.

Yeah.

I mean, it's inconvenient enough
that we have to work

without even a modicum
of privacy.

I mean, how hard is it
to put up a simple divider?

Right.

But don't worry about that.
That's not your problem.

All I'm asking is that
you adopt some new habits

that don't run the risk
of disturbing my work.

Do you understand?

Great.

Great. Great.

Well, then, I suggest
we get back to our duties.

If it all goes smoothly,

we needn't ever
mention this again.

Rakesh sat and looked
at me for a long while

after we had returned
to our places,

without doing anything
about his papers.

I let him. Presumably,
he wasn't used
to being corrected

in such a clear
and effective way.

Don't think of it
as a reprimand...

more as an observation.

Inside the room,
there was a calm.

A concentration that felt like
early mornings at school.

It contained the same
relaxed feeling
and limited freedom.

The whole room
breathed tradition.

There was an air
of old-fashioned
quality to it.

Each line seemed perfectly
connected to the next.

Everything messy
and unsettling vanished.

Precision returned.

Is this what monks feel like

as they walk the corridors
of their monasteries?

Rakesh hadn't yet found
a better solution
for his papers,

but I felt fine about it.

He probably didn't want
to change his behavior
just like that

after being ordered to.

I couldn't deny him
a degree of pride.

If it turned out that
he was consciously
being obstructive,

and if things hadn't improved
within a week,

I would have to raise
the matter again.

Can I ask you something?

Yes, go ahead.

What are you doing?

What do you mean?

What are you doing
when you stand like that?

What are you talking about?

All right, man.
We can talk about it--

No, please. What-- what...

What do I do?

You stand out there,
completely still.

Do I?

Yeah. It's like
you're just not there.

Do I say anything?

No.

I mean, you're, like
completely gone.

Like, completely
out of reach.

You didn't move an inch.

It was like
you couldn't hear me,

like you were somewhere else.

And...

when do I do this?

This morning.

And the other day, you made me
come out there with you,

and then you just
stood there like that.

How long do I stand there
like that?

I don't know, it varies.
Like, last time it was,
like, five minutes.

Anybody else see me like that?

Everyone.

Mitchell.

I need you to be honest
with me now.

Think you can do that?

- Uh... okay.
- I'm being very serious.

Now, this might sound strange,
but I need you
to answer me truthfully.

What?

What is this room for?

What room?

This room right here.

Oh, well...

there's the elevator
and there's the john.

No, I'm talking
about this room.

Uh...

That's a wall.

Is that all you have to say?

Why are you so interested
in this wall?

Don't drag me into this.

I realized
in that moment that Mitchell
was only a poor subordinate.

He didn't want trouble.

No. Whoever was responsible
for this deception

was on a different level
of the hierarchy.

The higher level.

Do you have any idea
what that's about?

- I think it's very strange.
- He doesn't make any sense.

I saw him do it
last Thursday.

I lost patience
and decided to gather
the staff together.

I had the whole division
with me, except Andrew,

who was stuck
in some meeting all day.

Well, I'd like to thank you all
for joining me in here today.

So now I've seen through
your little joke.

I don't know who the brains
behind it is, but, uh...

I've figured out enough

to let you know that out there

you can pretend all you want
that there is no room,

but in here, you can't pretend.

There is a room.

This is it. We're in it.

So it's pointless to continue
this little game.

And I expect,
now that we've had this chat,

that all the bullying can stop

and we can all get back
to business.

All right?

Great.

The next thing I knew,
the whole division
was called to Andrew's office.

It was quite a squeeze.

- Come in.
- Rakesh was wearing
a darker jacket,

and I was much happier with it.

It had a decent, classic cut.

It made him fit in better
with the rest of us.

You know, it's not every day
that we have a...

a division-wide meeting
on such short notice, but, um...

Carol here has something
she'd like to discuss.

Not just me. I think I can speak
for the whole division.

We all think this is
getting to be too much.

- What is?
- No, let Carol finish.

Obviously, I was going
to let her finish,
but all of a sudden,

it was as if his supposition
that I had interrupted her...

- Thank you.
- ...were true.

The truth is, we're all
getting worried about you.

Why would you be
getting worried?

It's the standing.

Didn't I tell you
it was pointless
to try and conduct

psychological warfare
against me?

You can't bully me.

What are you talking
about, Orson?

I have a feeling that
this has its origins in the fact

that some of you
may have noticed that I have,
on two or three occasions,

taken myself aside
to garner my strength alone,

having a short rest
in that little room
next to the elevator.

I can understand
that to some of you,
this may seem annoying.

Obviously, we all
have work to do,

and we can't just take breaks
whenever we feel like it.

But I want to assure you
that I will always take care

to make up any concomitant
loss of efficiency...

Hmm.

And if any of you have
any secrets hidden in there

that for whatever reason
you don't want me to see,

you're welcome
to tell me right here.

Anyone?

Otherwise, you may go.

Orson and I will handle this.

- What the hell was that?
- Weird, is what it was.

Are you not feeling well, Orson?

You appreciate you simply
can't behave like this?

It's unacceptable.

Unacceptable.
Do you understand me?

You simply can't dismiss people
from my office.

This room...

in the hall?

Past the elevators,
across the hall
and right next to the bathrooms.

What sort of room is it?

As far as I can tell,
it isn't being used,
or hasn't been in a long time.

I haven't taken anything
or made a mess,
or anything like that.

If there's anything
shady going on,
I don't know about it.

I just...

go in there a few times,
and that's it.

And what do you do there?

- In the room?
- Mm-hmm.

Spend time in there.

But what exactly do you do?

Well, nothing,
but I can understand

why others are jealous
and freaked out.

Don't worry about anybody else.

Why, Orson, do you want
to spend time there?

Well, it makes me feel good.

Okay.

There is no room, Orson.

Yes, there is.
It's right behind the--

Listen to me carefully
now, Orson.

There is no room
next to the elevator.

There's never been a room there.

You've possibly...
created it in your head.

Maybe it's there for you.
I don't know how this
sort of thing--

Fine. Look, if you're
gonna start with--

Listen to me now, Orson.

I must insist that
you stop going to it.

You can't go into
the room anymore.

You telling me that
the room isn't there

is as strange to me
as me telling you

that that chair isn't there.

That chair is there.

I'm glad we can agree on that.

Evidently, things have
changed dramatically.

We knew you were
a complex character,

but no one ever said
you were so...

peculiar.

You'll just have to stop
going to that room.

Otherwise, we'll come up
with a different solution.

Do you understand me?

It doesn't see
very fair, if you ask me.

Why does Andrew get a room,
and I don't?

And I have to ask you
to see a psychiatrist.

And that's how I met you.

So this... room...

What sort of room is it?

An office.

And where is it?

Between the bathroom
and the elevator.

And you go in there?

Yes, but they're saying
that I can't.

You wanna go on sick leave?

- No.
- Oh.

Explain to me why he doesn't
want you to go in the room.

Because he says
it doesn't exist.

So does it?

Yes.

Can you describe it to me?

Everything is exactly
in the right place.

It's nice, but it's not showy.

It's comfortable,
but it's not worn out.

The upholstery
is soft and springy.

The designs, the details,
the patterns are...

unique and tasteful.

The light is soft and warm

and it hits your face
just the right way,

never glinting into your eyes.

Even the records on the shelves
and the books...

perfectly chosen by someone
who, I can only assume,
cares very much.

It sounds lovely.
But, this perfect room...

does it exist for anyone else?

I don't know.
They tell me it doesn't.

But you know it exists.

Yes.

Are we done here?

Is there anything going on
that you need to talk about?

Something stressing you out?

I don't see how that's relevant.

Well, we're here
to talk about Orson.

Do you know who that is?

That settles it.

Orson and I have agreed
to get rid of the room.

You mean...
he's going to stay?

It's a health-and-safety issue.

No, it's not.

If he's allowed
to stand there like that,

then I should be allowed
to practice Reiki
in the break area.

- Hmm.
- Don't we need to be
functioning at full capacity?

Seriously, he's fucking crazy.
You have to admit that.

She said there was
nothing wrong with me,

and that I'm perfectly capable
of continuing to work,

and Andrew knows it.

He's perfectly capable
of working.

Hm, I've seen the report.

I'm inclined to agree.

But he's mental.
Anyone can see that.

Surely we can't have a moron
who goes and stares at the wall

the minute things get busy.

Although I do think
we all should be allowed

to do what we like
during our breaks.

I'm not so sure about that.

I say fire him.

Orson has been carrying out
his duties faultlessly.

Really, we oughta feel
sorry for him.

Andrew's right.

There's no justification
for firing him.

Listen, I don't give
a shit what he does,

but he keeps dragging the rest
of us over there as well.

Exactly.

I think it's creepy

seeing him stand there
like that.

It's like he's just not there.

Why don't we say...

it's okay, as long as Orson
doesn't go into the room?

- I could say that.
- Are you serious?

It's okay.

It's okay.

- It's okay.
- It's okay.

Yeah, it's good.

I did my best
to imitate the others

and pretend the room
didn't exist.

It felt ridiculous.

When they were all at lunch,
I couldn't see any reason

not to go in there
for a short while.

I saw what you did.

Don't act all innocent,
I saw you.

If I see you again...

I'll tell.

Whenever anyone
looked at me,

I fired off a broad smile.

A smile disarms your opponent

and makes them doubt
their own enmity.

Hmm. How's it going, Rakesh?

- Good. Yeah, good.
- Great.

No problems then, huh?

No, everything's fine.

Excellent.

How are things
with you, then?

What sort of things?

Well, what have you spent
the last few days doing?

Why do you need to know?

Because I'm your boss.

I'm working on
an improved metric

for customer service
here in the division.

What is this?

I plan to use it to measure

the benefits I'm providing
my customers.

Uh, to that purpose,
I've created a questionnaire

that's meant to find out
what you customers think
of my services.

"Us customers"?

I usually think of you
as customers.

What for, huh?

Are you really asking me that?

Yes.

I am really asking you that.

You maximize your potential
better if you imagine
a customer on the other end.

Huh.

Hmm.

So I would be grateful
if you could fill out
this questionnaire

which you can find
by clicking this link here.

There are five questions
in the survey relating
to the quality of our services,

and one question asking
if there are any other services

you can think of
that we should provide.

Home number, cell number,
although, of course,
that's voluntary,

but I'd be grateful if you could
fill out the questionnaire

as fully as possible.

But, Orson, I asked you
to compile a list
of phone numbers,

didn't I?

All my energy
drained away.

I suddenly had
difficulty concentrating,

and a stiffness spread
across my shoulders.

After three days
without the room,

I started to feel unsettled.

I became irritable and noticed
I was sweating more than usual.

The most acute
abstinence anxiety
was starting to subside,

but it was as if the habit
was still in my body.

I constantly had to stop myself

when I realized my body
was on its way there
of its own accord,

like an ex-smoker fumbling
for a pack of cigarettes.

I tried to think about
something else,

and every time I felt the urge,
I counted down from 20.

Twenty,
19, 18, 17, 16...

Fifteen, 14, 13, 12, 11...

Ten...

Nine, eight, seven,
six, five...

Four, three, two...

One.

I didn't go in.

I'm sure of that.

The next morning, I woke up
thinking about the room.

...then a left,
and then another right,

- and then a left door...
- I tried to distract myself

by indulging
in some light small talk

with that engaging woman
in reception.

Good morning.

I bet you say that
to all the guys.

Yeah, I do.

Uh, you don't have
any floor plans back there,

do you?

Floor plans?

Uh, blueprints,
like, maps of the building.

No. I can help you find
anywhere you're trying to go.

No, that's okay. I'll-- I'll--
I'll figure it out.

Okay. Are you sure?
It's kind of my job.

No. No, I'll... I'll be okay.

I went up
to the fourth floor, got out,

and was almost at the door.

I crept toward
the forbidden place

like a child
on Christmas morning,

stopped right next to it,

stood there feeling what
it was like to be so close.

No. No, no, it's not
what you think.

- He was there again.
- I wasn't.

- I saw you.
- No.

I-- I saw you. You were
standing like that again.

No, I was just standing.

He was just standing.

- That's what I'm saying.
- Yeah, well,

people are allowed
to stand still.

No one can stop you
just standing there
for a moment.

Orson, how long
are we talking about here?

Minutes? Seconds?

I didn't go inside.

He didn't go inside.

Word spread from Carol
like a group email.

During the day,
practically everyone
passed her desk,

and before they walked on,
they managed to glance
in my direction.

I decided to go home
slightly early that day.

I wasn't feeling very well.

I had forgotten how difficult
it was to locate my car

in the parking lot
at that time,

used, as I was,
to leaving later
than everyone else

when the lot was mostly empty.

For the first time,
I realized how weird I'd been.

Thinking about all
the stupid things I had done

and what they had led to
gave me a headache.

If I was to get where I wanted,

I would need to adopt
an entirely new
tactical approach.

How high can I get?

If I carry on like this,
who could stop me?

- Why are you late?
- I overslept.

I'm very sorry. I--
I had trouble falling asleep.

I lay there thinking...

thinking about recent events,

things that I've said,
and done, and so on, and...

I can see I've been
behaving strangely,

and I'd like to do
what I can to...

well, to make right
any problems
I may have caused.

Orson. Orson, Orson.

But, I know I've caused
problems for you too,

and I'd like to ask
for your forgiveness.

It was never my intention
to cause any trouble.

I can promise you,
from here on out,
there will be no more of that.

Sit down.

You're an unusual person.

I'm glad you've taken the time
to think things through.

Maybe it was worth
getting a late start.

Obviously, I'll make up
for any time I've lost.

Don't worry about that.
If we can get you back on track,

this little break will have been
entirely justified. So,

we're agreed on the rules now?

- Yes.
- And we can forget
all about the...?

Of course.

No one will be happier than I...

if we can find a solution
to this.

Oh, and I've, uh, finished
that list of phone numbers
you asked for.

Oh, excellent.
Do you know what?
Tomorrow...

could you put together
a list of which projects
have gone through QA

and which ones haven't?
It'd be good to have
that on paper.

And you can tell
where they come from by--

Oh, yeah. I know.

Look to see if there
are two signatures
at the bottom of the report.

I can-- I can do it.

Great.

Owing to my late start,

I thought I may as well
stay a bit late.

An hour or so later,
I took the elevator
straight to the lobby,

without passing the room.

The threat of closure
hung like an evil spirit
over the whole division.

Rakesh and Andrew
had endless heated discussions,

which always ended with talk
about the possibility
of the entire company

being closed down.

I assumed this was management
keeping us on our toes

and not letting anyone think
they were safe.

- If this works...
- I don't understand
what you're...

Okay, I'm telling you,
I can't produce a clearer text

- from this--
- Of course, you can.

Just before lunch,
another printout

was delivered
to Andrew's office.

Uh, what shall I do now?

Hmm?

If there's perhaps,
any messaging

or clarity issues
in any of the texts?

What are you thinking?

I was just wondering
if I could help.

No, thanks.

I don't think so. It'll be fine.

Oh, but you could...

check all the printers.
Make sure there's
enough paper, and so on.

I realized
that my humiliation
had to be dragged

right down to the very bottom.

I didn't mind.

It was all part of the plan.

...shuffled up
or shuffled down?

What the hell
does "shuffled" mean?

I don't think
I'm comfortable with people
knowing about my shuffling.

It's probably just when
they put you in a position

- that is basically
the equivalent of--
- Mm-hmm.

I took care
to participate in all
the group coffee breaks.

I was taking part.

I was there as a physical
presence among them.

So, like I was saying,
these cutbacks are killing us.

They got used to me.

I assumed the role
of passive participant,

the person no one
really notices,

but whose presence
is a precondition

for the general character
of social interaction.

You have excellent productivity.

It really was astonishing

that still,
no one had fixed the light.

I thought your numbers
were down a bit.

How many office workers
does it take

- to screw in a light bulb?
- She's got excellent--

No sooner had I returned
to my place

when I saw that the inevitable,
dreaded moment
was finally upon me.

Rakesh's papers had finally
overflowed onto my desk.

I shoved the whole pile
back onto his side,

causing some of the files
to fall on the floor.

When Rakesh came back,
I felt a pang
of my old intolerance,

a gust of my old self
who had been
far too excitable,

too guileless,
in purely tactical terms.

My initial impulse
was to repeat the procedure

and this time push everything
a bit further,

but then it dawned on me...

this was the opportunity
I had been waiting for.

Without even asking for it,

I had been given
a helping hand.

An almost meditative calm
spread through me.

Rakesh spent a large part
of the afternoon

trying in vain to find
the missing case file.

He didn't say anything,
but I know that's
what he was doing.

And that's when I slipped
inside the room
for the eighth time.

Formulations that would usually
take a long time to grasp

flowed into my consciousness
in a perfectly natural way.

I understood at once.

Most of it seemed obvious,

like I'd been asked
to fill in the answers

in a second-grade math book.

I formulated a couple
simple phrases in my head,

simple and clear.

It was as if I had
cleaned the document

in order to reveal
its pure lines.

That's exactly what I meant.
It's brilliant, Rakesh.

Fopdoodlin' genius,
factual and concise,

no room for misunderstanding.

- That isn't mine.
- What?

Boss, I didn't write it.

What do you mean
you didn't write it?

Someone else
must have written it.

Carol!

Mitchie?

If one of them
had falsely taken credit
for my work,

the situation would have
been even better.

We would've been able
to increase the bounce
of my trampoline, so to speak.

But, evidently, neither of them
was brazen enough.

When the working day was over
and everyone had gone home,

I felt my heart begin to pound.

It felt like
I was robbing Fort Knox.

I started work on case 1842.

The whole process
went much quicker this time.

It was like I'd learned
something about the way
things fit together,

something about the way
time and space interact.

At last, I'd found a structure
that suited me.

Shannon, is this your 1842?

Do you recognize this form? No?

The next day,
I repeated the process
with case 1199.

I felt her eyes on me
the moment I entered
the little glass cube.

And just after Andrew arrived,

sure enough,
there she was, telling tales.

I couldn't have
arranged it better.

I understand you're the one
who left this on my desk.

Who wrote it?

I did.

Who... Who asked
you to write it?

I just took it for granted
it was my responsibility,

seeing as how the files
were on my desk.

Who put it there?

I have no idea.

- Please.
- I just assume--

Follow me.

Close the door, please.

What's going on, Orson?

Oh, I-- I didn't mean
to cause any trouble.

I-- I wasn't trying to take
someone else's work.

I just assumed that...

I was supposed to do it
because the case files
were on my desk.

Can you tell me who wrote
cases 1834 and 1636?

I did.

The truth now, Orson.

That is the truth.

The EVP...

- is very pleased.
- Oh?

He says we've finally found
the right tone. Hm.

These texts ought to be
the template
for all future decisions.

I, I... I...

I didn't know.

I could've exploited
my lowly status

and made the turnaround
even greater,

even more of a shock,
but this was where we were.

At last, he had realized,

and maybe I should be happy
that he was at least
intelligent enough

to recognize talent
when he saw it.

You surprise.

I think it would be best...

...if you felt you could
handle some more.

I'd be happy to help
in any way that I can,

but bearing in mind
my other duties,

I just think finding the time
to look after the printers
is-- is...

Obviously, you wouldn't have
to do any more of that.

Quality assurance is...

I'm sorry, Orson,
if I underestimated you.

It isn't always easy
to see the skills
of your fellow colleagues,

especially not... Ah.

I apologize.

Knowing when to keep
your mouth shut is an art.

Had a lot going on recently.

I could've easily drawn
this out a bit longer.

Apology accepted.

Thank you.

A short time later,
I was able to run my fingers
slowly over the numbers

on the cover
of a brand-new edition

of our company's
gold standard reference.

Good morning.
How can I help you?

Uh, I'd like to see
revision 16-C.

One moment, please.

From the way she looked at me,
I could tell she'd
caught a glimpse

of the author's name
on the spine.

She seemed suitably impressed.

Excuse me.

It's none of my business,
but did you write that?

It's mine.

Congratulations.

I hear it's now
the standard framework

being used for case
decisions company-wide.

That's very gratifying.

I only started working
here recently.

It's taken me a while to get
the swing of things, but, uh...

Yes, I've seen you come in.

You're always a little early.

I like to keep
to a specific schedule.

Well, seems to be
working out for you.

What's your secret?

I actually do have
a small secret.

- Oh?
- Would you like
to know what it is?

Yeah.

I don't know.

Come on. You have to tell me.

You can't tease
a girl like that.

You promise not to tell anyone?

All right, fine. I promise.

I found a secret room,
and when I work in there,
I'm able to do anything.

A secret room.

- Here, in the building?
- On the fourth floor.

Is it like a bookshelf
you push away, or...?

Nothing like that.
It's just a regular door.

It's just that most people
aren't able to see it.

Yeah.

People are like that sometimes.

Yeah.

What's the room like inside?

I mean, comfortable.

Maybe a little old-fashioned.

Sounds nice.

Rumors of my success

swept through the whole
division like a wave.

How can he be
so good at this?

So you're telling me
he could do this all along?

Maybe he's
some kind of savant.

Hey.

So, um, how come
you can suddenly--

I mean, we had no idea.

Hard work. As Aristotle said,
"Excellence is a habit."

Huh. But, um, how do you
go about it, exactly?

Obviously, each individual
has different ways

of reaching a decision.

Some people find it hard
or they can feel strange.

I find it very easy
to make decisions,
it comes very naturally to me.

And I think you'll understand
that, uh, I can't reveal
my reasoning.

That would be both impossible
and undesirable.

The best thing for the company,
and for you yourself,

would be for you to work out
your way of reasoning
on your own.

Um...

Mm...

So how long were you
planning on keeping
your talent hidden, then?

Do you think it's funny
going around
pretending you're unstable

just so you can show everyone
your tightrope routine later on?

When did you steal those files?

Don't you think you should go
and change your shirt?

Soon,
the open-floor-plan
office around me

was full of protracted
and unstructured discussion

about the coming
Christmas party.

Is Shannon gonna make
that awful tropical punch again?

I did my best to stay out
of the whole fractured debate.

Why don't you make the punch
this year, hmm?

- I can really use the help.
- Oh, sure, love to.

Orson, haven't heard
back from you about
the Christmas party.

You coming?

I used Carol's trick
of completely ignoring her

and carrying on with my work.

With all the commotion,
it would be impossible
to get into the room

without being detected.

So I did the sensible thing
and left.

It didn't look like
the other guests

were paying much attention
to the shoe code that evening.

Look who decided
to come after all.

Well, I can probably
find you a plate.

It was obvious that they were
all more relaxed than usual.

Just a heads up. It's gonna take
about six of these

to equal one shot of liquor,
so drink up.

How's that punch?
It's got guava in it.

I don't taste guava.

It's in there.

I don't taste guava.

I had to agree
with Rakesh

that it was hard
to taste the guava.

I resolved to drink
my cup slowly,

so as not to lose my composure.

This was a work party,
after all.

Oh. Congratulations.

It's great that things
are going so well for you.

Thanks, Mitchell.

Sorry about what I said before.

You know how things get
in a stressful workplace.

But I'm really pleased that
you're back on track again.

I just wanted you to know.
I mean, even the EVP is pleased.

People made various
excruciating attempts
to engage me in conversation.

You might manage
to save all our jobs.

As you might imagine,
it was a pointless task.

Outside, the snow
was still falling.

I'd just made up my mind
to leave when...

Oh, uh...

I didn't expect
to see you here.

I get invited
to all the parties.

I guess everyone thinks
I don't have my own division.

Oh. Oh, let's see,
there must be, what...

- Twenty-eight divisions.
- Twenty-nine, actually.

Maintenance has
their own division.

A lot of people forget.

They invite me
to their party as well.

Well, that's not fair.

You really do have
a firm grasp of details.

That's very admirable.

Do you know how many employees
we have here in the building?

- Well, there's you and me--
- Sixteen hundred forty-seven.

Wow, that is--
that is something.

My name's Alyssa, by the way.

She looked like
she was expecting a reply,

but what could I possibly
have to say about her name?

Her name was Alyssa.

"Okay"? "Good"?

"Nice name"?

I-- I don't-- I don't care much
for the Christmas lights.

No. I think Shannon put them up.

Wow, you sure do know a lot.

Would you like a glass?

I recalled a man
from out of town

who took me
on a bar crawl once,

and insisted on us drinking
until the last bar closed.

I felt sick
for a week afterwards.

All right,
I'm dying of curiosity.

You-- You are?

The room.

The famous room.

Oh, um...

Wouldn't you like
to show it to me?

Um...

There it is. Do you see?

No.

But I want to.

Oh, well...

Um...

Okay, this is the... door frame.

- Yeah?
- Okay.

Put my hand on the doorknob.

Am I holding it?

Yes.

Go ahead and open the door.

Oh, Orson.

It's perfect.

Do you like it?

Yes.

It's...

Well...

It's you.

What do you mean?

You're different
from the other people here.

I can tell.

They just want to succeed.

I want to succeed.

Yeah, I know, but you aren't
only in it to make money.

Well, I want to make money,
of course, but...

- Money isn't everything.
- Money isn't everything.

You know, the way I see it...

everyone needs this, right?

A place that's only theirs.

And this is yours.

Don't you think this is a place
where you can be yourself?

A private space that you share
only with someone close...

someone just like you.

I think that I know
everything there is
to know about you.

What do you think about that?

Yeah.

You know, it sounds crazy,

but all day long,

I'm just smiling at people,

trying to make them
feel welcome.

I like that I don't have
to do that with you.

I have to be nice all the time,

but I'd rather be honest.

You might not be
the nicest person,

but I can tell...

you're the most honest.

She stood there
looking at me for a long time,

charged, changed,

as if I'd shown her something
she hadn't quite been
prepared for.

As far as I'm aware,
she went straight home.

Jesus. You startled me.

Oh, did I? I didn't mean to.

I wondered whether
I should say anything

about the events in the room
the previous evening...

- Early.
- Yeah.

...but decided
that it would be best

to simply ride
the wave of impressions

I had been given.

Eventually, I said...

You too, huh?

- Uh, legal department?
- Oh, yes. You can take
the elevator...

I could see
she didn't know
how to broach the topic

of our life-altering encounter.

I decided to give her a moment
to gather her thoughts.

- Got it, thank you.
- Alyssa.

- Hi. Um...
- How can I help you?

Can I, uh, borrow a quarter
for the coffee machine?

I have an appointment
with Mr. Goring.

J-Just-- just one quarter.

Just a quarter
for the coffee machine.

Yes, one sec.

All right, you can have a seat
right over there.

- I'll let him know you're here.
- Thank you.

Hello. Yes, Meredith is here
to see you, Mr. Goring.

Yes, thank you.

I decided to counter
her irritation

with a forgiving,
worldly attitude.

"Money isn't everything."

Mm.
You know, I actually think the coffee's better down here.

I have to ask you something
personal. Is that okay?

Yeah.

Last night...

were you on drugs?

Why would she ask me that?

Was she a drug user?

What a shame.

I really liked her.

I felt my whole body ache.

What do you-- what do you mean?

I-- I just mean...

Well...

what are you doing
down here now, for instance?

It's work time.

Without knowing how
it had happened...

Oh!

...I felt something warm
and wet on my legs.

I'd walked straight
into the trap.

All that smiling,
that optimistic outlook,

clearly, it was
a chemically-produced
friendliness.

You can head right on up.

Being taken in by the surface
appearance of a drug user

was one of the dangers
of being an open,
honest person.

Something about the room
didn't make sense,

so I figured I may
as well investigate.

Hello!

I went down to the third floor.

The layout was the same,
but no room.

I was forced to admire
the elegant artistry

of whoever had constructed
the secret space.

What had the architect done
to conceal a room

when it was right
in front of the noses
of everyone working here.

I know you've only
ever done four,

or the occasional
three-figure cases, but...

how would you feel
about taking on number 97?

It's a direct request
from the EVP.

I'd be happy to.

Your first double-digit case.

Come on. I'll help you
pick out the material.

As Andrew
walked next to me

along the halls
of the fifth floor

with the heavy burden
in his arms,

it felt like
he was my assistant.

Orson, we should've
brought a cart.

He had started to rely on me.

As the days passed,
I grew irritated,

having to keep quiet
about my real workplace.

Besides, I was tired
of having to wait

until all the others
had left each day

before I could get
anything done.

I was thinking about it
as I passed Alyssa
in reception,

who hadn't looked at me
for several days now,

and thus, hadn't given me
an appropriate opportunity

to show that I was keeping
my distance.

I've taken the liberty
of purchasing,
at company expense,

a small gift...

to emphasize how you've adjusted
to the new protocols

and to show how proud
I am of you.

Thank you very much, Andrew.
I appreciate the gesture,

uh, but there's something
more important to discuss.

Uh...

Obviously, I'm not making
any kind of demand,

but, uh...

you would be making it easier
for me to choose you here

if there were ever any chance
of me considering anything else.

Are you thinking of leaving us?

I can't get into that.

Hmm...

What would you like
to talk about?

Well, I don't wanna mention
anyone by name, but...

I could think of at least
one person at the company

who is a drug user.

But that's not my main concern.

I think we can take for granted
that of everyone here,

I contribute the most
in terms of work,

and I find it reasonable
that I should have
a space of my own,

an office, if you will,
in which to do that work.

I would like to propose that...

the room is a place
I could work.

- You mean "the room"?
- Mm-hmm.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

I thought we were done
with that.

Well, not exactly.

Okay, it is very important
that we do the right thing
in a situation like this.

It's important
for the whole company.

We're not going to make
any hasty decisions.

Well, obviously, I can't decide
what happens to anyone else...

- No, exactly.
- ...apart from myself.

So just give me
free access to the room.

I could understand
where he was coming from.

Creative people have always
encountered resistance.

It's perfectly natural for more
straightforward individuals

to feel alarmed
by someone of talent.

But I was done playing nice.

Thank you for the slippers.

Maybe we've
reached the point now

where the room
has a certain significance,

and on those terms, then,
it does exist.

How crazy do I have
to be to get the free slippers?

What's going on?

Andrew went upstairs
to the EVP.

What for?

Well, he's gonna ask him.

About what?

About the room.
That's what we agreed.

This is a matter
for the executive
vice president.

That's probably right.

What exactly is it
that you want?

I just want to do my job.

What do you think we're doing?

I can't say
with total certainty.

Now, this is such a grandiose
and detailed project...

...and it's so
ingeniously malicious.

I have to admit,
I'm kinda fascinated by it.

But it will be exciting to see
what the EVP says

when Andrew comes back down.

Yeah.

And with that, I put on my coat
and went off to lunch early.

Orson! They asked me to grab you
the second you came in.

Andrew needs to see you
in his office.

He said you could go right in
and wait for him.

Any minute,
Andrew would be here
begging for my forgiveness,

and with, I hope,
some reasonable explanation

for what's really
been going on.

I would admit to him
I have made use of the room
for all manner of activities.

I have done most of my--
and he will have to forgive me
for putting it like this--

"singularly-successful"
work in there

during the evenings
and at night.

And, yes, I intend
to keep on doing so.

But Andrew's betrayals
would not be forgiven.

I would only stay
on the condition that he goes.

Five, six, maybe seven minutes
of intense silence passed.

Hello, Orson.

I've come straight from the EVP.

Finally.

We, uh... we spent
a long time talking.

So, um...

Well, I informed him
about everything, about you,

and your extraordinary
accomplishments,

your peculiar way of working,

and your request for the, uh...

the room.

He very seriously
considered the situation.

He showed me

the floor plans.

Orson, we looked
at them together.

He was in no doubt, very...

How can I put it...

Persuasive in his argument.

On this, the fourth floor,
between the elevators
and the bathrooms,

there is absolutely
no other space.

And I'm sorry, Orson,
but his decision is final.

I have to let you go.

- Andrew was threatened by me.
- Come on.

He'd set out to hire
an invalid, a drone

who could never approach
his modest level of competence.

Let's clear out your desk.

When he realized
I was more capable than he was,

I naturally became his enemy.

You're making
a terrible mistake.

I am sorry, Orson.
I did try to warn you.

Please, Andrew,
I don't blame you.

You know, little people
can't be held accountable

for striving to undermine
their betters.

But you people, you all
should be very, very proud.

I'm impressed.

You wanna tell me
how far in advance

all of this got, uh,
got worked out?

Was-- was it before
I even arrived?

Was I even one of the original
intended victims?

Huh?

I mean, you can tell me,
you won.

No?

No one?

Fine, have it your way.

You can go back
to your sagging trolleys

of imprecise wording,

and your banal,
meteorological obsessions,

and your absurd rituals.

And because, because,
because-- because the EVPs,

and then the CEOs,
and the-- and the VIPs,
and all the other acronyms

are gonna-- are gonna go on
with their collateralized debts,

and their short stocks,
and their long options,

and you can't even see it.

- You can't even see it!
- Orson...

They don't care about you.

They don't. You're,
you're-- you're a number
in a column on a spreadsheet.

This is a corral
and you're all livestock,

but instead of slaughtering you,

they just show you
the efficiency metrics

and then encourage you
to slit your own throat.

And you? You...

If you think you're gonna get
the same kind of work

you got out of me
out of these-- these people

that can't even see a door
right in front of their face,

then you got
another thing coming.

That's impossible, by the way.

It's easy to let
yourself be taken in
by new acquaintances.

You ascribe to them
all manner of noble qualities,

simply because you don't
know them well enough.

But you will almost always
end up disappointed.

Sooner or later, you always
reach a certain point,

an occasion where their
true self breaks through.

One way of dealing with that
is simply to assume
the worst of people.

It's good to realize
that we aren't as remarkable
as we might imagine.

We wanna make a lot of money,
eat good food,

and generally have a nice time.

We are all relatively
simple creatures.

Deep down, we just want
peace and quiet.

The problem
with ordinary people

is they don't see the world
as it really is.

They don't see the nuances,
the little differences.

You have to show
people like that

what their shortcomings are.

Stop!

Follow him!

- Orson?
- Orson?

Finally, I could breathe again,

and think more or less clearly.

Orson?

Orson?

Orson?

It smelled like the sea...

and lilacs...

and Lindenwood Park
at five in the morning
at the end of May.

You'll never find me here.