Something is terribly wrong with the tearoom at work.

I work for a tech company called Nexus that specialises in AI. The company is known for pampering its employees but the new London branch which opened three months ago takes the piss. It’s like something out of a sci-fi movie. The best thing is the canteen which serves a different nationality every day. It’s so cool, considering that a meal in a restaurant is so fucking expensive in London. On my first day, I asked my colleagues what the deal was with the food. Why it was free. Apparently, it was so that we spent more time at work. It was an honour system. We didn’t have to stay late but we were expected to put in extra hours. And we did. In fact, the office was always buzzing with people. Which made finding a quiet spot, somewhere to sit and eat, a bit of a challenge. The patio was always full so I started eating in the tearooms on the top floor. It was a long room with a kitchenette on one end and a patio on the other. I liked sitting at the large wooden table in the middle of the room near the window. The view of the Shard was great and I could eat my lunch in peace. That’s what I was doing on my fifth day at work. I was Polish so I was very excited to try some nice pierogi ruskie. I had just started eating when I heard a noise. I looked at the door, wondering who it was, but no one came in. Shrugging, I went to throw away the empty package the pierogi came in. As I reached the kitchenette, I saw a dead mouse lying on the floor. It had no eyes. Shuddering, I glued my gaze to the floor. But something caught my attention. The mouse was covered in remnants of Chinese food. It was weird. Why would someone leave a dead mouse in the tearooms? And with Chinese food? We had eaten Chinese food two days ago. I took out my phone to call facilities and that’s when I saw it. A piece of paper on the counter with a message scrawled on it: *help me.* With a lot of scribbles underneath. I froze, trying to process what it meant. Who wrote it? And why? I looked around the room again, this time noticing how old everything was. The white goods were ancient. There was a teapot in one of the cupboards. I picked it up. It was heavy and I could tell it hadn’t been washed in years. Someone grasped my arm and I screamed, dropping the teapot. “Oh my god,” a woman exclaimed as I turned to her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” “Yeah,” I said. “I just thought the tearooms were new.” “They are,” she replied. “But management decided to reuse as much as possible from the old office. We used to be based in Shoreditch but it was getting too crowded. Moving here was a big change for us.” “I know what you mean,” I said. “I’m from Poland.” “I’m from Lithuania,” she said. “My name is Gabija, by the way.” “I’m Ewelina. Nice to meet you.” I picked up the teapot, giving it to her. “I know, right? I thought the tearooms were new but they’re filled with crap from the old office. I was going to throw this teapot away.” “Oh no,” she said. “I’d keep it if I were you. It’s probably been here for years.” “Yeah. Years and years. Maybe even decades.” We both laughed but then she stopped. “You know, I’m not being funny or anything, but where did you find the teapot?” “In one of the cupboards.” She frowned. “I didn’t know we had cupboards.” I pointed at them. “Oh, bloody hell,” she said. “I didn’t know we had cupboards there.” I shrugged and we sat at the table. We talked for a bit. I learned that Gabija was a software engineer who had moved to London to work for Nexus. She had never been to the Shoreditch office but had heard many stories about it. “Is there something wrong with it?” “There’s a lot that’s wrong with it,” she said. “I heard the new London branch was going to be the prototype for other offices. Apparently they’re closing the Shoreditch one.” “Why?” “I’m not sure,” she said. “But I heard it’s not safe.” I frowned. “What?” “I’m not sure,” she said. “But I heard if you spend too much time in the Shoreditch office, you’ll stop noticing things.” I shook my head. “Noticing things?” “Yes. Little things. Things that aren’t quite right.” “Are you serious?” “Yeah. Apparently if you spend too much time in the Shoreditch office, you’ll stop noticing things that aren’t quite right. The managers will be too nice to you, the food will taste too good, and everyone will be too friendly.” I blinked at her. “That’s fucking crazy.” Gabija leaned closer to me. “I know this is gonna sound crazy,” she said. “But I think something is wrong with the London office. The new one.” I frowned. “No,” I replied. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.” “I’m not sure,” she said. “But sometimes I think we’re…we’re living in a simulation.” I laughed, but Gabija was serious. I could tell. “You mean like The Matrix?” “Yes,” she said. “Exactly.” “But no one notices anything?” “Yes,” she said. “No one notices anything.” I frowned. “Gabija, what’s going on?” “I’m not sure,” she said. “But I usually work late. I always do. I’m a workaholic. But once I was working so late that I was the only one in the office. Then I heard a strange noise coming from the stairs.” I frowned. “What?” “Yes, the stairs. It sounded like someone was coming down them. But they were…are…closed for construction. It was so weird. So I went to check it out and that’s when I saw it. A door which I had never noticed before. It was hidden behind some plants. I knew it wasn’t there before.” I laughed. “Maybe it’s a secret door.” Gabija glared at me. “When I arrived at work the next day, it was gone.” “What?” “Yes,” she said. “I’m telling you, something is wrong with this place.” I laughed again but this time Gabija didn’t say anything. She just got up and left. I stayed in the tearoom for a while, finishing my pierogi and glued to my phone. I just couldn’t believe that some people thought the office was a simulation. It was crazy. But then it struck me. Where did I place the teapot? I couldn’t remember. For some reason it really bothered me so I spent the rest of the afternoon looking for the teapot. I even asked my colleagues for help. But no one saw the teapot. The next day, I was determined to find it. So I started my day with a search. That’s when I saw it. It was on someone’s desk. I frowned, wondering who it belonged to. The guy sitting at the desk was staring at his computer so I approached him. When he saw me, he looked startled. “Hi,” I said. “But that….is that the teapot from the tearooms?” “Yes,” he said. “It was a gift.” “Oh,” I said. “Who gave it to you?” He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “But there was a note attached to it. It said *you can talk to her.* Do you know what it means?” I shook my head. “No,” I said. “Sorry. Maybe someone is trying to get your attention.” He looked at me for a bit before replying. “Yeah. Maybe. Sorry.” “No need to apologise,” I said. “I hope you find out who gave you the teapot.” “Yeah. Thanks.” I left feeling uneasy. Who gave the teapot to him? And why? But I had no answers. The next day, I received an email from someone called Jack. I didn’t know who he was but he must have worked at Nexus. His email was the same as ours except his last name was missing. At first I thought he was being stalked by someone but when I looked at his job title, I understood everything. *Jack | Head of Security.* I read the message. *Hi Ewelina, this is Jack, Head of Security at Nexus. I heard you were looking for a teapot. It’s a bit of a long story but I think we need to meet up and talk. Would you like to meet for lunch at 12pm? I’ll be waiting at the table where you eat on the patio. Jack.* It was weird. Jack spelled his name *jaçk.* It had a cedilla. I shrugged. Maybe he was French. When lunch came, I rushed downstairs. I was starving because I had skipped breakfast and I was looking forward to some Hungarian food. I just hoped I could eat it. I was so anxious about meeting Jack. What did he want to talk about? And what did he have to do with the teapot? When I reached the patio, Jack wasn’t there. But Gabija was. She beckoned me to come

Something is terribly wrong with the tearoom at work.

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