Stanley lazily opened one eye before hastily shutting it again, blinded by the light that sneaked into his office. Courtesy of the Narrator, always leaving his door slightly open. Perhaps to keep an eye on him every so often while the voice was doing… whatever it was he did when he wasn't narrating.
The office worker straightened himself up, feeling the familiar ache in his neck and shoulders from where he'd been leaning on his desk for too long. Looking around, he saw the usual cabinets, paperwork and of course his monitor, complete with the typical green arrow and missing orders.
Nothing out of the ordinary so far.
Despite the very familiar surroundings, Stanley felt for sure something was missing. Something obvious.
Suddenly, the answer struck him. The Narrator had failed to wake him.
This was enough to startle the employee to alertness. Stanley frowned; the employee felt strange, isolated. Something clearly was wrong.
Usually, whenever Stanley went to sleep, woke up, ate or did any other menial tasks that wasn't trawling through the same predetermined routes, the Narrator was aware and watching. Usually, the voice instigated it even, telling him to 'feel grateful for the break'.
It was routine for them.
That being said, Stanley had never awoken without the express permission of his watcher before.
After a brief moment mulling on this unusual event, the office worker decided on what he needed to do: check the office for any other strange occurrences. He knew he was risking being caught outside his office unprompted and subsequently angering the voice, but he didn't care. Stanley opted that it was worth the risk.
He fumbled with the door handle for a moment, anxiety troubling him, before pushing the door open and quietly stepping outside.
Immediately the differences almost overloaded Stanley's senses.
Coloured lights shone all around the usually bleak workplace; sparkles of blue, green, red and many other colours shimmered and glistened before Stanley's eyes. It dimly reminded him of the space room his Narrator was so fond of.
Stanley expected the voice to chime in at any moment to give an explanation, but no such new dialogue came. Instead, the Narrator remained curiously absent.
The bewildered employee continued his trek through the office, noticing the lights appearing more and more often throughout the office. The lights seemed to swirl around him specifically. Stanley wondered to himself what all this was actually building up to, if anything.
Stanley paused. Too many times he thought he'd found a solution, new pathway or escape only to find nothing but dead ends. No. He would not get his hopes up. Whatever his so-called guide was planning, Stanley wasn't going to simply fall blindly into any traps. Not again.
Despite his doubts, he continued through the passageway, passed door 417 and turned the corner. The ever-increasing lights were now distracting in their intensity; there were only a few blotches on the wall left untouched by them. Nonetheless, Stanley continued walking forward.
However before Stanley could reach the end of the hallway, an impossible visual shocked him to the core.
Peering into the room with the two doors, Stanley stared at a human shaped figure, shimmering in the same coloured lights. The office worker rubbed his eyes, wondering if this was a hallucination, but when he lowered his hands the figure remained.
The figure was tall and wore a pair of black dress pants with a matching suit jacket. Beneath that was a grey button up shirt. What Stanley could make out from the hallway, the male appeared to be middle aged, judging by his lined facial features and short, slightly mussed greying hair. The glowing man seemed to be waiting for something, idly tapping one leather shoe impatiently on the floor.
Stanley had a sneaking suspicion as to the identity of the strange figure. He watched attentively, took in all the details. He hadn't seen another person in so long - even if this person was only a projection before him.
And as Stanley stared in bewilderment, another similarly glowing figure appeared beside the first. It took Stanley only a moment to figure out his identity.
It… appeared to be… him.
The other Stanley had the same average height and build as him, same hairstyle, same work clothes… everything. Well, nearly everything. The other Stanley's expression, that was different. Almost unnatural. The lips curled upwards into a shy grin, staring up at the other shimmering figure in adoration.
He looked... happy. They both looked happy.
The suited man smiled and took a step forward, taking initiative as he gently pulling the other Stanley closer to him. What must have been his Narrator led his 'twin' into a slow, waltz-like dance.
The real Stanley's eyebrows raised in surprise.
Neither of the two seemed to have a care in the world. The image of him nearly tripped over the other and let out a small, silent laugh. The narrator smiled lovingly down at him, steadying him. They simply enjoyed themselves, content with eachother's company. The coloured lights illuminated the room, reminding Stanley of a concert. Neither acknowledge him, and Stanley was too afraid of them disappearing to enter the room.
Instead, he opted to simply watch from the hallway, leaning against the entrance with a puzzled expression.
While the employee was enjoying the lightshow, he was unsure as to the true meaning of it all.
Why would the narrator want to show him this? Was this some attempt to show Stanley how he felt about him? There was no mistaking the intimacy; even Stanley could pick on that. Could it be the voice just couldn't put his feelings into words?
Or perhaps this was just another game, another attempt to get into his head and control him.
Whatever the motive was, how was he expected to respond to this? Their relationship was rocky at the best of times, what with all the insults thrown at him on a daily basis. Stanley has lost count of the number of resets he's been put through, the number of deaths. To any normal, rational being, this was beyond enough reason to despise someone. The idea of beginning a relationship with somebody who has caused so much damage seemed absurd.
Yet, deep down, Stanley admitted to himself that there was a connection between them. The two spent nearly every waking hour together - whether they wanted to or not. The restarts, while disorientating and often unpleasant, never left any lasting damage to himself.
And despite the man's condescending nature he even found himself sometimes appreciating the Narrator. The sheer amount of time and dedication the other put into his job (and consequently, Stanley) was admirable, if unnerving. Stanley couldn't tell whether it was classic Stockholm syndrome, madness finally catching up to him or some other affect the dreary office building was having on him, but he certainly didn't hate his Narrator.
The employee pondered on this for a while as he watched the dancing figures and twinkling lights.
Eventually, the colours faded and the lights dimmed. The office worker shook himself alert at the sudden change. As with the lights, the two figures in the centre of the room slowly but surely faded away.
Stanley found himself saddened by the loss.
A sudden clicking noise echoed throughout the office, breaking the silence. Stanley nearly jumped halfway out of his skin.
"Ahem," coughed a very familiar British voice.
"Good morning St- wait," the Narrator paused.
Stanley noted that the voice's usual crisp, clear tone sounded different, slurred as if the man had just woken up.
"Stanley? Why are you outside your office? Forget that, what are you even doing being here, awake? I hadn't given you permission to wake up."
The protagonist shrugged in response. He wasn't aware of what the time was - none of the clocks in the office worked properly and looking out the windows certainly didn't tell him anything. He gave the ceiling a questioning look, hoping to convey his confusion to his guide, as well as receive an explanation.
"Now what's that look for? Are you annoyed? I don't see why you're the one upset here, Stanley. If you hadn't wanted everything to become so disordered, you shouldn't have left your office," the Narrator chided.
Stanley shook his head in response. He knew the voice wasn't the best when it came to body language so he tried again.
"Or is that confusion? In any case, If you must know Stanley I was… busy attending to matters elsewhere. I apologise that I wasn't around to wake you. It was dangerous of me to leave you unattended," the Narrator spoke regretfully, as if talking to a small child.
Stanley frowned at that. He slowly mouthed the words 'What were you doing' at the ceiling, hoping the other would understand him. Whatever it was had to have something to do with the lightshow.
"What was I? Well I don't see how it's any business of yours Stanley, but since your curiosity is so 'peaked' I'll enlighten you: sleeping."
Stanley's eyes widened as the realisation hit him - the lights must have been a projection of the Narrator's dream. There was no other explanation for the strange events. A smirk played on his face at the mental image of his guide snoozing, surrounded by pages from his beloved script. Stanley admitted to himself that it was quite adorable. The Narrator mustn't have known that the office could project his dreams.
"W-what? Why are you smiling like that? Sleeping is a perfectly natural thing for people to do, Stanley," his guide murmured, sounding just a tad insecure.
The office worker rolled his eyes and grinned in response.
"... Anyway, let's start from the beginning shall we? After all, it would make absolutely no sense to start a story anywhere else. Stanley walked back up to his office."
For once, Stanley obeyed the command without argument.