Prompt:
Write a two-person scene set entirely during a long elevator ride between two characters who used to be best friends but had a major falling out years ago. Neither of them expected to see the other today.
Characters:
Marshall Kingsley: Recently unemployed and couldn’t be happier. Gave 15 years of his life to the Firm and was just 2 more away from having the soul completely squeezed out of his chest. What was left of it was still sickly and frail, but in time it’s sure to make a full recovery. His mornings used to consist of traffic jams and Teams meetings. These days, they involve a warm cup of coffee, a nice stroll through the park, and rediscovering old hobbies he left behind years ago. He’s traded the suit for a Blink 182 t-shirt, and the laptop for a good paperback. Unfortunately, there are some wounds that never quite heal; that stick around and fester. And one in particular that puts the trials and tribulations of corporate America to shame. And its name is Riley Johnson.
Riley Johnson: Recently promoted and couldn’t be more miserable. Has given 10 years of her life to the Firm and doesn’t think she has another 2 left in her. These days, her mornings consist of waking up and staring at the ceiling, wondering if she has it in her to do it all over again. Eventually, her dog always interrupts these morbid musings to demand breakfast and a walk. It’s fine. The ceiling will be there for her tomorrow. Extroverted, outgoing, and fun. Successful career, albeit a soul-crushing one. In a relationship with a man she swears she loves, but for the life of her cannot find one nice thing to say about him. To the innocent bystander, appears to be a happy, thriving millennial professional! Desperately seeking something to make her able to feel it herself.
Marshall POV:
“You look…well.”
Marshall did not look well.
If unemployment had an official uniform, it would look much like Marshall’s current getup. His mesh gym shorts were dirty and ripped and ended halfway down his thigh, while a wrinkled Blink-182 t-shirt stretched a bit too tightly across his torso. Either Marshall’s stomach had expanded or the cotton in the fabric had contracted, but the t-shirt didn’t quite extend all the way to his shorts, leaving an inch of pale belly exposed to the world.
Inside, Marshall wasn’t faring much better. He had always wondered at the “deer frozen in the headlights” expression. He figured that if an animal were faced with imminent danger, its first reaction would be to run, not to stare. But as he cast a blank gaze at Riley, he began to understand the dynamic quite viscerally.
“Were you really not gonna hold the door for me?”
It’s not that I tried to ignore you, Riley, he thought to himself. It’s just that a Ford 150 flashed its headlights at me, and I lost the capacity to think for a moment.
He reached out to the elevator panel and pressed the button for the 8th floor. He was shocked to see that his hands weren’t shaking. Shouldn’t they be shaking? His entire body felt primed to jump and run at any moment, and his heart beat like a kickdrum in his chest.
“S-sorry about that. I kind of get lost in my own head when my earbuds are in.” His voice sounded wobbly to his own ears, and he hoped desperately it was just feedback from his earbuds. Just to be sure, he took them out and held them awkwardly at his sides, one in each sweaty palm.
Riley sauntered further into the elevator and leaned casually against the wall. With an amused quirk of her lips, she crossed her arms over her chest and nodded in the direction of the elevator panel. “Can you press floor 9, please?”
Marshall jumped to obey. He was disappointed with how eagerly he fell back into old habits. But he wasn’t surprised. He’d spent a year trying to make Riley happy, and his body remembered the familiar cues. Those damn eyes.
“You look…great.” But Riley always looked great. And Marshall always felt shabby next to her. All things considered, it had actually been among the healthier dynamics in their relationship.
Riley shrugged and smiled. “Oh, it’s just the glasses. They make me look so elegant and respectable,” she said, flipping her hair mockingly. “I’d always assumed that’s why you insisted on never getting contacts.” She raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Although I imagine that t-shirt has the same effect these days?”
Marshall tried not to stare again. He loved that hair. After she had moved out, he would still find strands of it laying across the furniture or snagged in the carpet. He stopped cleaning his apartment for months to make them last a little longer. He hadn’t found one for almost a year now.
He gave himself a mental shake. There was no need to take another ride on that emotional rollercoaster. Smiling weakly, he started to grab his t-shirt and prepare a witty retort. In the process, he had forgotten that he was holding his earbuds. They fell from his hands and ricocheted wildly across the elevator floor.
Cool.
Riley took a step forward to help, but Marshall waved her off. “I got it, I got it. No need to get your pants dirty just because I have the hand eye coordination of a drunk child.” He found it fitting that in less than twenty seconds he had already found himself on his hands and knees in front of her.
“Don’t forget the attire of one as well.” Marshall glanced up to see that Riley had joined him on the floor. Of course. She never listened to me when we were dating. Why start now? “Here you go,” she said, holding out an earbud.
“Thanks.” This time, he deposited the earbuds safely in his pockets. “If you don’t mind me, I think I’m just going to stay down here a little bit longer and look for my dignity. And to think, I had just found it,” he said with a sarcastic shake of his head.
Riley remained crouched on the floor with him. “Oh? And where was it?”
“The unemployment line, apparently. I quit my job last month. You should have seen my boss’s face!” He began to smile, but glanced away shamefully when he saw the look in Riley’s eyes. Concerned. Disappointed. Ashamed. He looked back and forced another smile. “But I hate having all this extra time on my hands. It was nice to get some time to relax and travel a bit, but I’m looking to find something new in the next few weeks.”
He wasn’t. And travel? The farthest he’d gone in the last three weeks was the grocery store. He’d wasted enough time in the Atlanta airport for one lifetime and had no interest in recreating the experience anytime soon. But work was always the one place where Marshall had viewed himself as Riley’s equal. And that goddamn look in her eyes.
Riley gave a smile of her own. “Of course. That makes sense.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors began to open. Marshall dusted off his knees and stood up. “It was great to see you, Riley. But this is my floor.” He glanced down at his shirt. “I’ll try to be back in business casual the next time we run into each other. Maybe lose the blazer next time, though. No need to show off in front of me.”
She gave him a long look before replying. “You know, my boyfriend works in recruiting. I’m sure he’d be happy to shoot some opportunities over to you.”
He had figured she was probably dating somebody by now. He still didn’t expect hearing it to hurt so much. This time he knew his smile looked as forced as it felt as he said, “Appreciate it, but I’ve got some final interviews next week. I should be all set.”
He hesitated as he exited the elevator. He turned around and gave her one last look. Those damn eyes.
“Goodbye Riley.”
“Goodbye Marshall.”
Riley POV:
“You look…great.”
Riley did look great.
If corporate ambition had an official uniform, then Riley would be its magazine model. Her silk blouse was tucked neatly into a pair of tailored navy slacks, and her long auburn hair cascaded down the back of a stylish grey blazer. The pair of glasses that framed her face weren’t strictly necessary, but they succeeded in adding an air of sophistication and wisdom to an otherwise round, youthful face. A leather tote bag slung over her shoulder and a sensible pair of black flats on her feet completed the picture of a thriving millennial professional.
Inside, Riley was faring much worse. She had always wondered how other people managed to be happy without success. Maybe if she could figure that out, she could stop wearing this fucking blazer, and wear her own Blink-182 shirt. In the meantime, she’d have to make do with the Xanax stowed away in her tote bag. There was enough in there to calm down an active war zone. She was hoping it’d last her until next week.
Riley shrugged and forced a smiled. “Oh, it’s just the glasses. They make me look so elegant and respectable.” She hoped her hair flip came across as suitably suave and dramatic. “I’d always assumed that’s why you insisted on never getting contacts.” She arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Although I imagine that t-shirt has the same effect these days?”
At least the shirt wasn’t as bad as his glasses. She hated those things and never understood why he put up with having to see through all those scratches and smudges on the lenses. Why didn’t he respect himself enough to just get them replaced?
She gave herself a mental shake. There was no reason to revisit that old argument. She watched Marshall gear himself up for a witty reply. He was always good for one. Much easier than having to acknowledge his feelings. Although, she couldn’t blame him entirely. She had a habit of encouraging him.
She watched with fond amusement as his ear buds fell to the floor.
Classic.
She took a step forward to help, but Marshall waved her off. “I got it, I got it. No need to get your pants dirty just because I have the hand eye coordination of a drunk child.”
“Don’t forget the attire of one as well.” Riley lowered herself to the ground and snatched up one of the fallen earbuds. Idiot. Why was it so hard for him to just let people help him? “Here you go,” she said, holding out an earbud.
“Thanks.” This time, he deposited the earbuds safely in his pockets. “If you don’t mind me, I think I’m just going to stay down here a little bit longer and look for my dignity. And to think, I had just found it,” he said with a sarcastic shake of his head. Another joke. Right on time.
Riley remained crouched on the floor with him. “Oh? And where was it?”
“The unemployment line, apparently. I quit my job last month. You should have seen my boss’s face!”
He quit? Riley felt the weight of the tote bag on her shoulder. She wished she could take that laptop and smash it against the wall. Was it really that easy? She glanced away shamefully, fearful that he had seen the envy in her eyes.
“But I hate having all this extra time on my hands. It was nice to get some time to relax and travel a bit, but I’m looking to find something new in the next few weeks”
Riley forced another smile. “Of course. That makes sense.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors began to open. Marshall dusted off his knees and stood up. “It was great to see you, Riley. But this is my floor.” He glanced down at his shirt. “I’ll try to be back in business casual the next time we run into each other. Maybe lose the blazer next time, though. No need to show off in front of me.”
She gave him a long look before replying. “You know, my boyfriend works in recruiting. I’m sure he’d be happy to shoot some opportunities over to you.” She immediately regretted saying it. She had meant it to sound helpful but knew that was foolish. She felt a pang in her heart at the stricken look that flashed across Marshall’s face.
Marshall managed a weak smile. She looked on guiltily as he said, “Appreciate it, but I’ve got some final interviews next week. I should be all set.”
She saw him hesitate as he exited the elevator. He turned around and gave her one last look. Please fix those glasses, idiot.
“Goodbye Riley.”
“Goodbye Marshall.”
Riley remained on the floor as the elevator doors closed behind him, and she stayed there as it lurched back into motion. Riley had never liked goodbyes. Even ones that started over a year ago. Even ones that she knew were ultimately for the best.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened for a second time. “Well, this is my floor,” she said to nobody in particular. She stood up with a sigh, straightening her blazer and readjusting the tote bag on her shoulder.
Pausing at the exit, she turned around and looked back at where Marshall had stood just a few seconds earlier. Goodbye Marshall.
Riley stepped outside, and the elevator doors snapped shut.
The Existential Wannabe 