The Corporate Undead

The fluorescent lights hummed their usual headache song as Marcus adjusted his hat—a fedora he'd started wearing ironically but now wore like armor against the gray sameness of the office. He was thirty-four and felt like a zombie, not the cinematic kind but the slow, hollowed-out variety that shuffled through Monday meetings with eyes that hadn't truly seen anything since 2019.

"Corporate wellness day!" Cheryl chirped from the doorway, her enthusiasm so sharp it threatened to draw blood. "Padel tournament at noon. Mandatory fun."

Marcus nodded mechanically. Another game he didn't know how to play, surrounded by colleagues he didn't know how to talk to anymore. He'd started taking vitamin D supplements after his doctor pointed out his levels were those of a cave-dwelling amphibian, but even the pills couldn't fix the persistent ache that had settled behind his ribs like a wet stone.

The office aquarium burbled in the corner, its sole goldfish staring blankly through the glass. Marcus had named it Existence after a particularly lonely wine night. Sometimes, caught in the reflection of his monitor at 3 AM, he saw the same expression on his own face.

"You coming to lunch?" asked Sarah from sales, the one who'd smiled at him during the holiday party three years running. Marcus had never responded. Now she was getting married to someone from finance. Someone who probably played padel enthusiastically.

"Not hungry," he said, which wasn't exactly a lie. The hunger was for something else—for a life that didn't feel like borrowed time, for work that meant something, for a version of himself who hadn't somehow already died while still walking around in a suit.

The goldfish rose to the surface, mouth opening and closing in silent repetition. Feed me. Notice me. Let me matter.

Marcus stood up. The hat felt heavier today. He'd go to the padel tournament. He'd pretend. He'd come back tomorrow. But somewhere beneath the vitamin-fortified surface of his days, something was beginning to crack, and for the first time in years, he found himself hoping it would shatter completely.