[Piano Intro]

The room is free at quarter to six.
Someone erased "deployment risks."
Two chairs wait beneath white light.
The building hums into the night.

[Verse]

You sit with both hands round a cup
That has been empty since one.
You say, "I know you're busy, Dan.
I'll keep this quick. I understand."
Your eyes stay fixed upon the grain
Of the table between our names.
Then Teams begins to flash again.
I turn the laptop face-down then.

[Chorus]

One-on-one at 5:45,
Forty-five minutes to prove we're alive.
Between a failed release and tomorrow's demand,
You're asking for help, and I'm holding your hands.
But listening means more than a calendar box.

[Verse]

You tell me Sunday felt like work
Because Monday waited in your nerves.
"I don't want special treatment here.
I only need the noise to clear.
I used to know the code I wrote.
Now every task feels in my throat."
I reach for language meant to lead:
"Prioritize. Rest. Tell me what you need."

[Chorus]

One-on-one at 5:45,
No leadership guide can make this right.
Between a staffing gap and a slipping plan,
You're trying not to break, and I'm trying to understand.
A person cannot heal when the next call has begun.

[Piano Interlude]

[Bridge]

At six twenty-two, Leon rings.
At six twenty-three, the incident begins.
"It's okay. You should take that call" —
That sentence is the hardest part of all.

[Build-up]

No. This was not successful.
A life reduced to a calendar slot,
Because every other hour was consumed.

[Final Chorus]

One-on-one at 5:45,
I will not call this support if nothing changes outside.
You needed fewer burdens, not a kinder reply.
You needed room to work and permission to survive.
Your quiet truth will not be archived.
No deadline is worth disappearing from here.

[Outro]

The incident waits. The hallway stays still.
I write in my notebook beneath every list:
"She needs time. Not advice.
Change this."
