Thank you for misunderstanding

It was another dull day at work, rainy and cold outside. It was a day filled with repeated phone calls, cold conversations, paperwork, unanswered emails, unfriendly glances from colleagues, picky complaints from clients, zombie faces of commuters... It was the day you wanted to leave work even before you started.

Lena sat at her desk, the flickering fluorescent lights above her casting a harsh, sterile glow. She rubbed her temples, the weight of the hours ahead already pressing down on her like a concrete slab. Her coffee, now lukewarm, sat untouched. The noise of the office—the clack of keyboards, the low hum of chatter—was just background static to the thoughts racing in her mind.

She glanced at the clock. 9:15 AM. Another seven and a half hours to go.

A new email pinged into her inbox, the subject line bold and impossible to ignore. "URGENT: Client Needs Immediate Attention." Lena sighed. She could already hear the voice on the other end of the line, demanding answers, expecting perfection, and offering nothing but stress in return.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but she couldn’t summon the energy to open it just yet. Instead, her gaze wandered to the window. The rain came down in sheets, washing the city in dull gray tones. The world outside seemed to mirror her internal state—drained, tired, stuck.

Just then, a tap on her cubicle wall snapped her from her thoughts. She turned to see Mark, the office "cheerleader," grinning like he was about to deliver some life-altering news.

“Hey, Lena! What’s up? Big project for you today, huh?” he asked, his voice way too chipper for the occasion.

“Same as usual,” she muttered, her lips curling into a thin, practiced smile. “Another email. Another call. Another complaint.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” Mark replied, nodding enthusiastically, but his eyes darted around the office as if searching for something to save him from this conversation. “Well, don’t let it get you down. You know what they say—every day’s an opportunity!”

Lena couldn’t help herself. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Right, every day’s an opportunity to feel more stuck.”

Before Mark could respond, she turned her attention back to her screen, readying herself for the next wave of tasks, but a small part of her wondered if there was something more out there—something beyond this soul-sucking cycle of work. A new opportunity, perhaps?

But that was a thought for another day.

Lena’s day continued, ticking along like an old clock. The hum of office noise became a drone, each task blurring into the next. Her mind wandered, but she tried to focus. The last thing she needed was to drift into daydreams in the middle of another pointless meeting.

She was sorting through yet another batch of emails when she heard a voice, unfamiliar yet somehow close.

“Hey, Lena, how’s it going?”

She looked up, startled. A man stood by her desk, holding a stack of papers. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt with something written across the chest. Lena squinted. It read: “Critical Error 404.”

A brow arched involuntarily, and she opened her mouth to ask what it meant, but her attention shifted to the back of his shirt, where another phrase was printed: “Thank you for misunderstanding.”

Lena blinked. Was that... was that some kind of joke?

The man smiled, a little sheepish, clearly noticing her confusion. “I know, it’s a weird shirt. I found it online and thought it’d be a good conversation starter.”

“Uh... right,” Lena said, still a bit off-balance. The words on his shirt, though odd, stirred something inside her. A flicker of recognition. Thank you for misunderstanding. The phrase seemed to hang in the air between them, almost like a whisper. For a split second, the office around her felt... different. Less gray, less dull.

But it was just a shirt, wasn’t it? A random piece of clothing. A dumb joke. Nothing to read into.

She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the strange feeling. “I see... So, uh, what’s the ‘critical error’ supposed to mean?”

“Oh, it’s just a tech joke. You know, ‘404 error’—like, ‘Page Not Found.’ I thought it was funny,” he said with a grin, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Lena chuckled, though it felt forced. “Right. Hilarious.”

There was a beat of silence. He stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking a little too hopeful for someone who had just cracked a joke about a t-shirt.

“Okay, well, I should get back to these reports,” Lena said, her fingers already tapping the keyboard. She wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly wanted to avoid his gaze. The last thing she needed was another distraction.

“Right. Yeah. I’ll, uh, leave you to it,” he said, still hanging in the air for just a second longer than necessary.

As he walked away, Lena’s thoughts went back to his shirt. Thank you for misunderstanding. It echoed in her head, like a message meant just for her, and for some reason, she couldn’t shake it.

Lena leaned back in her chair, trying to push the image of the man in the “Critical Error 404” shirt out of her mind. She clicked through a few more emails, but her thoughts kept drifting. There was something odd about that encounter. He’d seemed... different. Not in a good way, not in a bad way, just... different.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed with a message from Rachel, her closest work friend.

“Coffee break? I need to vent.”

Lena immediately hit reply. “Sure, meet you in the kitchen in five.”

She needed a break too. Anything to get away from the monotony of spreadsheets and the weird feeling in her chest that the man in the t-shirt had left behind.

In the kitchen, Rachel was already waiting, stirring her coffee with a distracted look on her face. When she saw Lena, she offered a tight smile.

“Rough morning?” Lena asked, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee.

“Ugh, don’t get me started. Same old, same old. It’s like everyone’s in a bad mood today.” Rachel took a sip, then raised an eyebrow. “How about you? You seem... distracted.”

Lena hesitated, then let out a breath, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know. It’s just that guy in the black t-shirt. You know, the one with the ‘Critical Error 404’ on it.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “Oh. Him.”

Lena couldn’t help but chuckle, even though she didn’t really feel like laughing. “Yeah, exactly. It’s just... weird. Why wear a shirt like that to work? It doesn’t even make sense.”

Rachel snorted, shaking her head. “I mean, who does that? And what’s with the ‘Thank you for misunderstanding’ on the back? Like, is he trying to be cryptic or something?”

Lena rolled her eyes, but the words still lingered in her mind. Thank you for misunderstanding. It sounded almost... personal. Maybe she was just overthinking it, as usual.

“I don’t know. It just felt... off, you know? Like, why would you walk into work wearing a shirt like that? What’s the point?” Lena said, crossing her arms, trying to dismiss the whole thing as a harmless oddity.

Rachel leaned back, a knowing look on her face. “Maybe he’s just trying to be edgy, or it’s some kind of joke. You know how some people have to have their little ‘quirks.’ You’re not buying it, though, huh?”

Lena shook her head, glancing out the window, though she wasn’t really seeing anything. “I guess not. It just... felt like he was trying too hard. Trying to stand out for no reason.”

Rachel sipped her coffee, then shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he’s just another weird guy in the office. There’s plenty of those around here. If it helps, I’m pretty sure he’s harmless. Probably has no idea how awkward he looks.”

Lena nodded, trying to force herself to believe that. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to the whole thing. Thank you for misunderstanding... It seemed to be whispering to her, begging her to pay attention.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, forcing a smile. “He’s just... another weirdo.”

Rachel raised her cup in mock salute. “There you go. Don’t let it mess with your head, Lena.”

But Lena wasn’t so sure. There was something about that shirt, about that moment, that wouldn’t leave her alone.

Lena was buried in yet another spreadsheet when she heard footsteps approaching. She barely looked up, assuming it was just another one of her colleagues passing by. But then a voice, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, said, “Lena, this is Theo. Theo, Lena.”

Her eyes flickered up to see one of the more talkative guys from her department, Max, standing there with a grin, his hand resting on Theo’s shoulder like they were old pals. Lena hadn’t had much interaction with Theo before, but she recognized him. The same man in the “Critical Error 404” shirt. The one that had been bouncing around in her mind all morning.

Theo offered a polite smile. “Hey, Lena. Max mentioned you were working on some projects with the client team. Thought I’d say hi.”

Max shot her an exaggerated wink. “Lena’s got all the answers. If you need any work advice, she’s your go-to.”

Lena didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or laugh at the way Max was acting like a matchmaker. Still, she managed a friendly enough smile. “Nice to meet you, Theo.”

Theo chuckled lightly. “Likewise. Max has been hyping up everyone in the department to me. You’ve got quite the reputation.”

The words ‘critical error’ flashed in Lena’s mind before she could stop it. Was this the guy who thought he was too clever for his own good? She glanced at the shirt again—the weird, cryptic message she couldn’t seem to shake.

Before she could formulate a response, Max, oblivious to the subtle tension, patted Theo on the back. “Well, I’ll let you two chat. I’ll leave you to it.”

And just like that, Max disappeared into the maze of cubicles.

Lena looked back at Theo, who was still smiling, as if waiting for her to say something. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and then, almost involuntarily, she asked, “So, uh, you really wear that shirt to work every day?”

Theo’s smile shifted into a knowing one. “Not every day. Just... on days when I feel like the world is a bit off.” He shrugged, the edges of his t-shirt shifting slightly as he did. “I mean, ‘Critical Error 404’? Sometimes, it just feels like I’m not really ‘found’ in the usual way people expect me to be.”

Lena felt a sudden shiver run through her, something that felt like a whisper from deep inside her chest. She blinked, her mind catching up with the words, and for a fleeting second—just a second—she had that strange feeling. The feeling like she’d been here before. Like this exact moment had happened before, in another time, in another place. But... it hadn’t. Or had it?

“Yeah,” Lena said quietly, her voice almost distant. “It’s... funny, in a way. I think I get it. Like you’re supposed to be someone you’re not, right?”

Theo tilted his head, his eyes softening slightly. “Exactly. You know how it feels, then?”

Lena opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. The déjà vu feeling was still with her, pressing at the edges of her thoughts. She had to blink again to clear her head.

“No, it’s... just a weird shirt. But you’re right,” she said quickly, brushing off the uncomfortable sensation. “It’s like we’re all supposed to fit into a mold here, you know? But we’re all walking around with 404 errors in our heads.”

Theo’s smile grew warmer. “I think you’re getting it.”

For a long beat, they just stood there, neither of them quite knowing what to say next. But there was something about the way Theo looked at her—a flicker of understanding, like he was somehow seeing her in a way others didn’t. It felt strange. But nice.

And then, just as quickly as the moment had begun, Lena shook her head and laughed nervously. “Well, anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Theo. I guess I’ll see you around.”

Theo nodded, still watching her, but there was something in his gaze that made Lena feel like the conversation wasn’t really over. Not yet.

As he walked away, Lena returned to her desk, trying to push the strange sensation aside. But the lingering feeling that she had already lived this moment, maybe even with Theo before, followed her as she stared at her screen. She shook her head, trying to focus, but the question kept circling in her mind: Had she?