disclaimer: oh, how I wish. Not mine, alas and woe.
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What was the phrase? Otto had never been good at colloquialisms. It was what you were when you were the extra person.
Words weren't his job. Words were their job. He'd see them bent over a notebook or the most recent paper, talking in quiet, heated voices. And at the end of the day, after they'd put the paper to bed, he thought of the other words those voices might be saying.
His job was to watch, to observe from behind the iconograph, to be, metaphorically, outside the story.
Otto wished he knew the phrase. It was what he was.