Chapter 4 — Tensions After Hours

Andy

The breakroom felt oddly cavernous in the late hours, the vending machines humming faintly, their glow casting a sterile light across the room. Every sound was amplified in the silence—the whir of the smart dispenser as it brewed my green tea, the soft hiss of steam curling upward. I hadn’t planned on being here, but the relentless glow of my screen and the endless loops of code had worn me down. A quiet moment away seemed like the only way to breathe.