On account of his hair, they called him Goldilocks. He did like porridge too and sometimes had it for breakfast, sat at his desk, checking his emails. He worked quietly, slotting CDs into the disk drive and humming along to songs by Lady Gaga – his favourite! It took his mind off the wretchedness of his existence. He believed his position was hypocritical and hated the duplicity of his bosses who were always absent or in secret meetings. He did his own work, with data. It was a key to a world that no one knew. But they would, very soon.