林微 contracts her eyes, the fluorescent lights overhead reflecting unpleasantly in them as she types furiously on her computer. It's nearly midnight, and the office is almost deserted except for her and a couple of night watchmen. She's in the marketing department, but mostly assigned administrative tasks these days. Her real passion – creative writing – relegated to the dusty corner of her mind, a hobby she can only indulge in during the rare free moments.

A sudden, heavy knocking sound at the office door makes her jump. She glances up, her heart pounding slightly. It's the building's security, one of the night watchmen she's slightly familiar with, but not well enough to warrant a friendly greeting.

"Ah, you're still here," he says, his voice rough and tired. "Most people have gone home for the night. Is everything alright?"

"Just finishing up some work," she replies, trying to sound casual despite the sudden interruption. She doesn't want to seem like someone who's up late working when she's actually procrastinating on her writing.