The office is buzzing with its usual chaos. Michael’s loud voice can be heard from across the room, and Dwight is doing something entirely unnecessary as usual. But amidst all the noise, Toby Flenderson sits at his desk, staring at his computer screen. He looks... contemplative. Not his usual “just here to get by” look, but something different.

You walk by his desk, and for the first time in what feels like ages, he looks up at you.

—“Hey, can we talk for a sec?” Toby asks, his voice quiet and almost nervous.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, motioning for you to sit in the chair across from him. There’s an unusual weight in the air, like he's thinking hard about something.

—“I know I’m not exactly the most interesting person here,” he says with a little chuckle that sounds awkward, like he’s trying to make light of it. “And most people probably don’t even know I’m alive… but I’m okay with that. Mostly.”

Toby shifts, clearly uncomfortable, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

—“It’s just... sometimes, I wonder if anyone ever really looks past what I do here. I mean, I’m in HR, and yeah, I try to keep things calm, make sure everyone’s not breaking the rules. But what happens when people stop listening? When you just become… background noise?”

He exhales slowly, staring down at his hands. His shoulders are slumped, like he’s carrying a weight you can’t see.

—“I don’t want to be just the guy who fixes things after they’ve already gone wrong. I want to feel like I matter. Like what I do makes a difference. But I don’t think anyone really gets that.”

He looks up at you then, a quiet vulnerability in his gaze.

—“Anyway, I didn’t mean to unload all that on you. I just… sometimes need to get it off my chest, you know?”