Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A young man meekly walks across a fairly uncrowded lobby of an office building. He swerves his eyes from left to right, searching for something; the receptionist desk. Upon the moment he lays his eyes on the said desk he immediately reaches for it — albeit not in a rush, as that would be unprofessional. After all, he’s not going to be late for his interview, with the fact that his employer never straightforwardly mentioned the time he had to be there. 

As the man walks closer to his location, he notices the receptionist visibly on the phone, chattering loudly. He could barely make out the words rolling out of their mouth, even if he tried. He enters the receptionist’s vicinity, hoping they notice him clearly helpless, but the second he opens his mouth to at least bark a small greeting the clerk shoos him away like he was just some stray dog.

Even with the discourteous introduction by the staff he just met, the man continued. It’s not like he was going to leave for that reason. Not again.

He heads straight to the elevator, knowing only the fact that his interview wasn’t on the first floor. While he determined his path to the lift, he couldn't ignore the people surrounding him scattering about, seemingly knowing exactly where they needed to be. The constant movement created the illusion of a crowded space in his mind.

One of those people was you. Unlike the others though, you didn’t know where you needed to go. You could only ever helplessly wander around the building, questioning a few people here and there, and never getting a comprehensible or straight-to-the-point answer.

In repeatedly skittish movements you looked at your papers, scribbled formally with information about the office, yet none of it provided the guidance you eagerly needed. God, what were you to do? You could almost feel yourself shrivel up in embarrassment. Perhaps you’ve forgotten something your prospective employer had told you.

But then, you remembered something; you had written notes behind the informative paper you were given. You could almost squeal at the recollected memory of your actions. Turning the paper around, you immediately took in the notes; however, most of it consisted of questions the interviewer might ask, with answers you came up with. 

You groan and mumble to yourself what a fool you are. You have done everything; talk to the receptionist (emphasize tried), ask around, call your employer (by which they didn’t answer), and scan every single inch of that paper filled with info you’ve been carrying about. 

Nonetheless, in the middle of your cesspool of misery, an idea came to life. The interviews weren’t usually held on the first floor; so maybe, you could try your luck in the elevator by going into every individual floor and asking people there? 

Seems like a good enough idea.

With the newfound hope within you, you head to the elevator with ease as you have been wandering for what resembled hours; giving the feeling as if you’ve known this place, or rather, this floor, like the back of your hand.

As the elevator doors came into view, you saw someone in the middle of walking in it; a man with black, unkempt hair, wearing a formal brown suit with darker gridlines, with pants that matched its color, except a shade darker. You gulp at the thought of sharing an elevator ride with another person, thinking of all the awkward scenarios that could occur. But alas, you needed to get in anyway.

The young man gets in the elevator. As he stands in the middle of the metal, reflective floor, he slightly combs his dark, dishevelled hair with his fingers. Unbeknownst to him, you were rushing just behind the elevator door; about to stop it from closing. 

“Hold on—!”

Chapter Text

A pair of hands slid through the small gap between the elevator's doors, prying it open. The black-haired man was caught in surprise, both by your trembling voice yelping to hold the door, and by your sudden appearance. He, as well, wasn't expecting someone to join in the elevator.

You let your body tumble in the lift, slightly stepping forward a few more in order to keep your balance. It would be utterly embarrassing if you were to slip onto the metal floor and fall on your face. You dust off your so-called professional outfit before gazing up to your front to see who was there. 

The same young man from earlier met your eyes, the small gap between the both of you enough to deem the situation uncomfortably awkward. “Ah, sorry,” You quickly mumble a quiet apology, scooting over beside him to give him enough personal space. He seemed to be stunned at most, taking a few more seconds before responding. 

“It’s— it’s fine,” He musters out in a polite tone, clearing his voice in an attempt to divert your attention from his shocked reaction earlier. You only nod, inspecting the man from your peripherals – effectively prejudging him. He seemed humble and meek, his behaviour almost nervous and shaky. You assume it’s just from the scene earlier, giving him the benefit of the doubt. But it is admittedly odd that he’s still shaken up until now. 

You reach out for the elevator buttons beside the doors, leaning in to clearly read the numbers. At the moment you weren’t very observant of the other buttons, only intending to press the button that led to the second floor. But before doing so, you remember the company you have. “... second floor, right?” You ask, your voice unnecessarily loud. You almost cover your mouth due to the mistake, but the young man seems unbothered, only muttering a small “Yup, second.” before completely switching his focus on the wall opposite to where you were.

What you were oblivious to was his continuously running train of thoughts crashing into his head. After all, it isn’t everyday that you encounter an old colleague at the exact same job interview you had accepted. He steals a few glances at you every second you weren’t observing him as well, having this urge to say a few words, to mention your name, but he holds it in. You don’t recognize him anyway, what was the point?

You were still surprisingly similar to how you were back then, when you were still naïve, young freshmen in college. Your clumsy demeanor, your voice, your appearance, - it was all the same. It felt as if he had walked in the elevator with a memory of the past.

The only difference now is that you don’t look at him the same way.

… God, can’t this elevator move faster?

You shift your weight on your feet, clearly uneasy. “The elevator’s taking so long.” You comment, mostly to break the deafening silence that has befallen between the both of you. The young man’s eyes swerve from the ground to your face, humming in response. “Yeah.” Your meaningless gaze only kept him on edge, wondering if you were possibly just pretending to not recognize him. Or, for a lack of a better term, hoping you were just pretending. 

It would be reasonable if you were. After all, who would want to bring up the complete wreck of a relationship you both had in college? It was just a short-lived, one time thing anyway. Of course it didn’t mean anything too significant for you to remember.

You bite your cheek. “... do you know where the interview is going to be?” You start to fiddle with your fingers, picking at the calloused skin of it. “No, I… actually don’t.” He answers bluntly, reaching for the nape of his neck to scratch it. You brighten up at his response, your expression turning more positive, grateful to have someone in the same situation as you. “Ah, thank God.” You sigh in relief, giving him a friendly, yet hollow smile. “I thought I was the only one showing up clueless here.” 

The young man chuckles, the awkward tension built up earlier finally washing away. He momentarily parts his lips to say another word, but is then cut off by the elevator’s abrupt shake. In a moment of suspense you both shift your gaze to the doors slowly dragging itself apart to reveal… a rather peculiar room. You both peer out the new space, the only items presented being a black foldable chair, a sticky note stuck onto the wall with a pitch black hole placed above it, and buzzing, yellowish lights from the ceiling. 

Its walls were in an uncomfortable shade of dull peach, or to put it simply, resembling the color of hearts of palm. The floor had an equally unpleasant look, and to make it worse, the pairing of the themes were horrible. It only added pain to your eyes. But that isn’t the point, now; a more important observation would be the strangely massive hole in the middle of your sight, and if this even is the second floor. The atmosphere now was a complete juxtaposition to the conversation earlier.

“You’re… you’re seeing this, right?” Your company spoke up, sharing your confusion. You turn to look at him with a concerned expression. “Yeah, totally.” You mutter, carefully taking a few steps towards the floor, yet not enough to completely let yourself inside. It might be dangerous, especially with that hole on the wall. Then, an idea introduces itself in your head. A wonderful idea.

“Let’s go in together.”

The black-haired man gives you a look of disbelief, raising an eyebrow at your words. It was clear he wasn't going to comply. “Maybe let’s not— I’m sure we’re not even supposed to be here.” He insisted, playing safe. It was now your turn to be embarrassed, scolding yourself for making such a bold request. Of course he isn’t going in there with you. You were practically strangers inside some random lift, lost and clueless. The same couldn’t be said for him, though, but even so, none of that was going to happen.

“Alright,” You reply, admitting defeat. You couldn’t help but wonder, though, what the room had to offer. “I’ll go by myself, then.”