Work Text:
Beth hardly slept the night before her game against Benny. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t from him psyching her out in the Student Union the night before, but deep down she knew that his moves had got under her skin.
His boyish smirk whenever he cornered Beth’s King, the way his eyes and wallet soaked up Beth’s five-dollar bills like water, Reis and Weissman’s stares as they sat just watching her lose over and over and over again, while the table drew a crowd of other students to bear witness to her losses.
Maybe Benny Watts was an asshole; or maybe he was a brilliant chess player. In Beth’s mind, a person could be both, easily. After his win against her in Las Vegas two years earlier, she knew she had to keep her cool when it came to him, which is exactly the opposite of what she’d done the previous night.
Beth often wanted to slap herself round the face, but the urge to that morning settled over her like the childish want to knock over a player’s King at the start of a game, just for funzies.
She composed herself, taking a few calming breaths, and popping two pills, before she finally opened the door to her tiny dormitory room at Ohio State. She strolled down the corridor, looking into the rooms of other players and students—they all stared at her like an untouchable piece of meat that they wanted to sink their teeth into.
This was a man’s world, Beth knew that. She knew they looked at her that way because they were afraid; she was better than anyone they’d ever met, with the added factor of two bosoms on her chest and a slender waist— they liked to hate her. It was all a power play, just because they didn’t want to admit they’d lose to a nineteen-year-old woman at a game they’d been playing since they were three-years old.
Beth admitted to herself that, sometimes, she liked the attention. It fuelled her to compete even more aggressively than she already did. It inspired her to be the first woman to ever get this far in the chess community.
Beth rounded the corner to the elevators, stamping a button with a bare fingernail and waiting. “Sleep well?” He sauntered up behind her, hat glued to his head, knife glued to his hip, smugness slapped all across his face—Benny Watts.
“Oh, sure. I slept fantastically,” Beth turned to him, shooting him a fake sweetly smile, before the lift arrived at their floor. They both got in, shuffling awkwardly as they moved to either sides of the carriage. Benny leant forward and hit the ground floor button, clearing his throat as he stood back in place.
Beth stared forwardly, biting down the urge to scream fighting words at Benny. As the doors closed, she willed herself not to move, not to speak, just to focus—
That focus flew out of the metaphorical window when the elevator jumped—it stopped and started, pushing both Beth and Benny around inside as they tried to cling onto the walls for support. Then—it stopped completely—in between the third and second floors of the dormitory building. Beth heard the cables creaking above them, as they settled to holding their weight for however long it took people to notice their absence.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Beth said suddenly, turning to Benny as he had an amused smile plastered on his face.
“If it is—it’s very funny,” Benny let out. Beth let out a groan, stomping forward to the doors. She clasped her fingers betwixt the doors and then pulled—pulled for her life. Her face began to redden, her fingers began to bruise, and then the crack of a nail breaking hit her ears, just before the pain hit her finger—
“Fuck! Fuck, ow, ow—,” Beth jumped back, clutching her finger in her hand as it throbbed beneath her palm. Her hands shook as she revealed her fingernail—blood already oozed from the crack, right down the centre of her nail bed.
She shook her hand a few times, wincing at the pain. Benny approached her and reached for her hand. “Ouch; just hold it still,” He said, examining her wound. Too overcome with pain, Beth let him poke and prod her finger gently, until she finally came to her senses. She retracted her hand from his grasp, sending him a glare.
Benny raised his hands in mock defeat, moving away from her to the other side of the carriage once more.
“What do we do now?” Beth breathed out, looking at the four walls that surrounded them.
Benny shuffled to the floor, stretching his lanky legs out as he leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “We wait,” He replied. Beth could have exploded right there, but she knew it was useless.
There wasn’t much to do when you were trapped inside an elevator, Beth quickly realised. She wished she was trapped alone, instead of stuck with Benny fucking Watts. The tranquilizers began to kick in when she descended to the ground in the same position as Benny; her head felt dizzy, her limbs felt jelloid, but her mind was one hundred percent activated—
It wasn’t long before a chess board appeared on the ceiling of the elevator, sapping up all of Beth’s attention. Her eyes flicked across the sky, moving her Queen, then her Rook, then her Knight, before she started all over from the beginning. She stared down her opponents King, giving it a death glare—she would win, it was just a matter of getting there first, of trying and failing at the speed of light—before they resigned, and their King toppled to the floor.
Beth smiled at her victory, not noticing how Benny had shuffled his way towards her, his eyes plastered on the ceiling with furrowed eyebrows. “What’re you doing?” He whispered in her ear. She jumped out of her skin, shoving herself into the corner of the lift. “Jesus, Harmon—I didn’t mean to scare you like that,” Benny said, retreating slightly, but curiosity was all over his face. “What were you looking at?” He asked again, this time pointing to the blank tiled ceiling of the lift. “Your eyes were darting all over the tiles, like you were watching something.”
Beth flicked her hair out of her eyes, frowning. “Did your mother never teach you to mind your own business?”
“Ooo, ouch,” Benny let out, clutching a melodramatic hand over his heart. “That one stung. It’s almost like you’re not happy to be stuck in a lift with me.” He added sarcastically. Beth let out a snort.
“Forgive me if I’m not over the moon, like you.” She said monotonously.
“Patience is a virtue, Harmon. Being trapped in a place like this is actually good for the mind,” Benny leaned his head back against the lift wall once more, as a small smile settled on his lips.
“Did you read that in a self-help book?” Beth chuckled out venomously.
Benny inhaled, amused smile on his lips. “No,”
“Then maybe you need to read a self-help book.”
Benny fully laughed at that. “Fighting talk. You really want to win this, don’t you?”
Beth let out a huff. “What—and you don’t?”
“Now, I never said that. When you’ve been playing chess as long as me, the novelty of a fight beforehand loses its value. After I got World Champion, I took a more casual approach to the game,”
“A more casual approach?” Beth began, crossing her arms and sending him a raised eyebrow. “So, you only make the thirteen-year-old players cry after you drag them through a game?”
“Exactly,” Benny agreed sarcastically. “It’s just too much when I make the thirty-five-year-olds sob after they’ve resigned.”
A chuckle trickled out of Beth’s lips, causing Benny to smile. “I made you laugh,”
“Don’t get used to it,” She replied immediately. “Perhaps I’m going insane being stuck here with you.”
“You’ve already got to be a little insane when you play chess like us,” Benny began. “People don’t think of it as being this competitive, this time consuming. People like us spend our lives studying a single move.”
“People like us?” Beth let out.
“Champions,” Benny replied. Beth tried not to let his words get to her—she wasn’t a champion, and Benny knew that already.
“I’m not a champion,” Beth said smally.
“Yet,” Benny retorted. “Don’t let that get to you, Harmon. I still intend to beat you today.”
Beth swallowed at his compliment. Benny thought she was good enough to be a champion someday; he’d confirmed it.
Beth transported herself back to Las Vegas, sitting opposite him as she’d realised she was trapped; checkmate. Anger bubbled beneath her skin; she knew she’d have to resign. Benny knew it too, as he stuck out his hand before her.
“Tough game,” He’d let out, and his words were genuine. She could see the tired lines on his forehead, the thrill in his eyes of competing against someone of her level, at her age.
Embarrassment crept its way up Beth’s neck as she recalled stomping away, too full of rage to accept her defeat gracefully. She’d regretted acting that way since the moment she’d done it; that same regret still hung over her head as she sat next to him now, trapped, stuck—but in a comfortable silence.
“I’m sorry,” She said suddenly, not daring to look at him. “For the way I acted after you won in Vegas. It was unprofessional.”
Benny chuckled after a few seconds. “I know how it feels to want something so badly, that it’s impossible to accept when it doesn’t go to plan,” Benny turned to her then, a soft expression on his face. “I’ve reacted in ways I’m not proud of, but I’ve never apologised for it. You’re definitely a bigger person than me, when it comes to that.”
“Well, thank you.” Beth said, utterly embarrassed. She could feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks as she turned back to the doors.
All of a sudden, the lift shifted beneath them. They both jumped up, anxiety and adrenaline spiking in both of them. The elevator jumped again, and Beth let out a scream. Benny approached her then, wrapping his arms around her as she reciprocated his embrace. Beth was terrified, certain that at any second, they’d hit the ground and die upon impact.
The lift lurched a final time, before the doors dinged open, as if nothing had ever happened. A huddle of students, players and workmen surrounded the outside of the lift on the ground floor. Their smiles appeared slowly, as their eyes landed upon the red faces of Beth and Benny, wrapped in each other’s limbs, hearts in their throats.
Beth was the first to detach herself, striding forward immediately and acting as if she hadn’t just been hugging Benny fucking Watts. She frowned as she made her way outside, ignoring the neon red flush that throbbed on her cheeks.
Benny ran up behind her, a smug smile plastered on his face. “I think one of them got a photo of that. I’ll have to ask if I can get a copy,” He let out, but Beth didn’t indulge his humour. “Is this one of those tales where the two enemies had a moment together, but afterwards they go back to the way things were?”
“Something like that,” Beth muttered.
“Well, then,” Benny said, and Beth finally stopped. She turned to him, her cheeks lessening in redness.
“Well, then,” She repeated.
“Good luck,” Benny let out, sticking out his hand for her to shake. Beth stared at his fingers, at his skull ring deposited on his pointer finger, at his short nails. She looked back at his face as a smug smile curled on her lip.
Then, she turned away, striding toward the lecture theatre without taking his hand. As she strode forward, smile growing, chin high—
She felt the champion’s stare on her back the entire time.
