When Maka slipped on her fire engine red high heels that morning, she told herself it was because they made her feel unstoppable, powerful. They were so vibrant, sleek, and dare she say it, sexy that Maka could not help but walk with the confidence and venom of a black widow spider. They were her "forged in Mount Doom to conquer the corporate world" shoes. They were her "don't make a Wizard of Oz joke or I'll step on your face" shoes.
And they were not at all for the benefit of Cute Elevator Guy.
Her office building was a whopping 28 stories, and despite the sheer volume of people and the astronomical improbability of seeing anyone more than once in one of the ten available elevators, Maka and Cute Elevator Guy crossed paths on a somewhat regular basis.
The first time it happened was a pure fluke. Maka had been squished inside a full elevator, and as the brassy doors had closed, a tan hand shot between them. The doors had opened once more, and a tall man with shaggy white hair and a loose tie shoved his way inside. Maka quickly found herself pressed into the front left corner of the elevator, and stuck inside that stuffy room, she could not help but hate this man.
"Could you get 18?" he said. Maka stared for a moment, not realizing that he was in fact talking to her. Mumbling, she hit the button for the 18th floor, and the elevator began its slow ascent.
People began filing out around floor eight, and as the elevator grew less crowded, the people inside readjusted themselves. Maka had once read that people on elevators constantly shuffled their positions so the amount of passengers on every side was equal. If there were five passengers, one would stand alone in the middle while the other four flanked her sides in groups of two. This psychological pattern held true until Maka and Cute Elevator Guy were the last remaining people. They were supposed to stand on either side, equidistant from the center of the car. While she had done her part and stayed toward the left, he was standing directly in the middle, slightly leaning towards her. Neither of them looked at each other, and they silently stared ahead at the doors until the elevator arrived at his floor.
After the elevator dinged and the doors crawled open, Cute Elevator Guy finally turned to her to wish Maka a good day. His eyes, shockingly enough, were a bright, burning, "There's no place like home" red. She wished him the same before he left.
Maka worked on the 25th floor, one of the highest in the building. She almost always was the first to get on when the elevator went down and the last to get off when it went up. It thus wasn't a surprise when her elevator took a pitstop at floor 18 on her way down to lunch on the same day. When Cute Elevator Guy walked in, they gave each other a nod of acknowledgement before riding to the bottom in mutual silence.
Their encounters grew more numerous. It was almost ridiculous how often they rode the same elevator at the same time. Whether she was arriving to work, going on her lunchbreak, dashing out for errands, or seeking out coffee, six times out of ten Cute Elevator Guy would appear for a portion of her ride up or down. Maka still didn't know his name, and she still hadn't told him hers, but she couldn't help but wonder how this kept happening. Twenty eight floors, ten elevators, several hundred people. What were the odds?
It became a joke between them. One day, when Maka was going to pick up a package from the post office during her lunch break, she couldn't help but smile when the elevator slowed its descent as it reached the 18th doors opened, and Cute Elevator Guy's face lit up when he saw her.
"Again?" He asked with a cocky grin. "Do you just ride elevators up and down all day to chase me down?"
Normally this sort of talk would annoy her, but instead it made her laugh. "I don't pursue," Maka said. "People find me." As a rule, Maka Albarn didn't chase men down unless they needed a swift chop to the head.
Cute Elevator Guy nodded. "I believe it." Maka enjoyed the way his red eyes brightened when he smiled.
She began to look out for him. Maka's work was dry and mind-numbing, and seeing her elevator friend always made her day a little easier to bear. Whenever the elevator approached 18, her breath would hitch and she would stare at the blinking floor counter. If it passed the floor, she would release the breath she was holding and grumble with impatience. If the door opened and someone other than Cute Elevator guy emerged, Maka would send blatantly sour looks at the imposters. And if it was him, the two or so sentences they exchanged was enough brighten her entire mood.
So maybe she didn't actually hate this man. Maybe she did fix her posture and sweep treasonous wisps of hair behind her ear before getting on elevators. And yes, maybe she had a crush on those deep red eyes that immediately came to mind when she bought a pair of new heels. It didn't matter, because at the end of the day they were still strangers and nothing more.
The day she finally wore the red heels, Maka left the office to grab a much-needed Diet Coke from the convenience store across the street. She was utterly blindsided when the elevator arrived at her floor and Cute Elevator Guy was already standing inside. Though he was usually very composed, a look of shock engulfed Cute Elevator Guy's face. The expression was fleeting, and Maka resolved to tease out what it meant.
It was just the two of them again. Maka entered the elevator, and after the doors closed she turned to the other rider. "This floor is a little high for you, isn't it?" she asked.
His cheeks pinked a little despite his stoic face, and he scratched his neck. "I got on an up elevator by mistake. Rather than getting off, I decided to ride it until it went down again."
She began to nod understandingly, but a thought made her pause. "So you're saying that we weren't even supposed to be on the same elevator?" Maka asked. "You're supposed to be riding a different down elevator, but then you accidentally got on an up elevator, and now we're in the same elevator, which wasn't even supposed to happen because we're both going down from two different floors at two different times, and there are ten entire elevators for us to choose from."
Cute Elevator Guy gave her a blank stare. "You've said 'elevator' so many times that I don't even know what it means anymore."
Maka put a hand on her popped hip. "I'm just saying that there is some weird elevator magic going on here. I see you all the time, and I don't even know your name."
"It's Soul."
The admission of his name came so easily, Maka marveled that she never had the nerve to ask it before. She held out her hand, and he gave it a languid shake. "Maka," she said. His hands felt nice, warm. They broke apart and returned to their own quadrants of the elevator, as psychology dictated. There was so much she wanted to know about him, probably starting with his unusual name and ending with his elevator riding habits. Maka opened her mouth to ask about his job, but he spoke first.
"I like your shoes," he murmured.
Pleased, Maka briefly rose on her toes and shifted back on to her heels. Finally! "Thank you! They're my–"
The elevator car abruptly halted, causing Maka to topple sideways into Soul. He caught her with one hand on her arm and another on her waist, but just as they regained balance the lift lurched up and down, sending both riders to their knees. The entire lift shuddered and rattled before the ceiling and button lights flickered off and the elevator became still.
They were consumed in utter blackness. The usual whir and rumble of the elevator had completely vanished, and Maka could hear nothing but her and Soul's ragged breathing. He was holding her, and she shivered when he unknowingly exhaled near her neck. She didn't realize they had fallen so close.
"Are you okay?" Soul asked. "Maka, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said, shifting away from him. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, allowing her to vaguely discern Soul's form, the elevator door, and the controls. "A little caught off guard, but fine. Sorry about falling on you."
"Don't sweat it. You're only kinda boney, so I didn't get too hurt." She lightly jabbed him in the ribs, hard enough for him to get the point but light enough that it was still playful. They had never spoken long enough to casually banter or insult each other before, and for a moment Maka appreciated this baby step in their fledgling friendship.
A moment later, panic set in. They were trapped in a dark, immobile elevator. Maka didn't tell anyone that she was going out for Diet Coke, and no coworker to her knowledge made note of her exit. Nobody knew where she was, save for the person who was stranded with her. They were well and truly stuck.
"Are you one of those people who gets freaked out in tight spaces?" Soul asked.
"No," she answered. "You?"
"I don't like it, but I'll be fine."
Maka nodded, grateful that no one was going to have a panic attack in their darkened elevator car. Well, since sitting stunned wasn't going to solve their problem, Maka fully extricated herself from what she realized was Soul's lap and stood on steady feet. She first swung her purse over her shoulder and walked over to the control panel. There were emergency mechanisms built into these things. Pressing the right button ought to get their situation sorted out fast. Using her phone for light, she pressed the button labeled "IN EMERGENCY PUSH." She expected an alarm to sound, but was promptly disappointed. She pressed it again–nothing. A third time–silence. Growling, Maka began to push the button furiously.
Maka ceased her button pushing when she felt a friendly, comforting presence behind her. "We should call someone," Soul suggested. He had joined her at the control panel. "Does your phone have service? Mine doesn't." A quick glance at her phone proved that no, Maka's phone did not have service in this elevator car, which was suspended in an elevator shaft some 20 stories above the ground.
Their next best option was to use the phone built into the elevator–another safety precaution. Pushing a button with a phone icon above it popped open a small compartment, which held a phone connected to a curled wire inside. Soul drew it out of the compartment and put it to his ear.
"Can you work it?" Maka asked.
Soul removed the phone from his ear to give her a withering look. "Do I know how to work an analog phone?"
"I mean is it functioning or not?"
He sighed and replaced it on the receiver. "I don't even have a dial tone."
"Unbelieveable," Maka said. "Are these emergency buttons here for decoration?"
"Maybe we won't need them," Soul said. He paused before looking at Maka thoughtfully. "Have you ever seen 'Die Hard?'"
Maka soon found herself slipping off her red heels and tucking the fabric of her flouncy skirt between her legs. Thank god she did not wear a pencil skirt to work today. With a lot of coordination and bickering, Maka was able to get on top of Soul's shoulders using only their cellphones for light. When Soul slowly rose to his full height, Maka's thighs squeezed his skull to maintain her balance.
"Please don't crush me between your legs," Soul said. "Well, not like this."
That was a fantasy Maka enjoyed very much, but now was not the time. "Less joking, more standing." With her phone clutched in her hand, Maka carefully examined the ceiling, searching for a vent or trap door. She had never before realized how complicated the elevator ceiling was. A large square panel contained the elevator lights, and it jutted out from the middle. Though it was rather reckless, she pulled on it. The panel did not budge. Puffing out her cheeks, Maka ran her hands along the edges searching for a seam, and she frowned when all she felt were a few screws. Contrary to the events of 'Die Hard,' this plan wasn't going to work.
Soul was more optimistic, if not a little pushy. "Just unscrew them!" he said.
"Oh, I'll just pull a screwdriver out of my bra and get to it then."
"It doesn't have to be a screwdriver. Maybe you can use your nails."
Maka gave his head another squeeze to shut him up. It was incredibly effective.
Soul knelt to the ground so she could hop off his sloping shoulders. Once Maka had smoothed her skirt, she began to pace. "We were about five floors down from my office when this happened," Maka thought aloud. "This means we are either at another floor or we are between floors. It's likely that we can get someone's attention in the floor lobby, if we scream loud enough."
Soul did not wait for Maka to say anything more. Illuminated only by the light of Maka's phone, he knocked hard on the elevator door. "Hullo! Can anybody hear me? Anybody?"
Maka gingerly placed her phone, their light source, on the floor. Then, with the fury and power of an outraged banshee, she wheeled towards the door and began to beat it with white-knuckled fists. "WE ARE TRAPPPPPPPED! GET US OUT!"
Soul joined in. "GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"
"THIS PIECE OF SHIT ELEVATOR IS STUCK!"
"CALL THE POLICE!"
They pounded on the elevator doors and screamed obscenities for ten minutes before they heard a muffled exclamation on the other side. It was hard to make out the words, but at least someone knew where they were. At least there was a chance that someone was getting help.
Their throats were hoarse from the yelling, and their arms ached from exhaustion. The two slid down the back wall of the elevator, shoulder to shoulder, and sank to the ground. They sat once again in complete darkness because they were conserving their phone batteries until the fire department or a janitor or someone finally came to free them. Maka was still barefoot, and her red shoes were piled next to her purse.
"Maka," Soul said with a low, hoarse voice. "I have to tell you something." Knowing full well that it was too dark for him to catch a glimpse beneath her skirt, Maka shifted and hugged her knees.
"The thing is," Soul began. "I didn't get on the up elevator by accident. I was actually going to your office."
Maka had been so consumed by being trapped in an elevator that she had forgotten the details of how they ended up in the same car in the first place. "What? Why?" Her voice was a little raspy, too.
"Well, I, uh–" He paused. "I wanted to ask you to lunch or coffee or something. Have a real conversation for once."
"Like a date?" Her heart thundered in her chest.
Soul's clothes rustled as he shrugged. "If you are down with that. I wanted to see you outside of an elevator." He snorted. "Obviously that plan went to shit. I have the worst fucking luck."
"Hey, it's not all bad," Maka said. "If you didn't try to visit me, I'd be stuck in here all alone. That seems like good luck to me."
"Huh, good point."
Silence fell between them for a few more minutes. Sitting close as they were, Maka let her head fall limp on his shoulder. As shitty as this entire situation was, at least is had allowed her to get to know him better. "I'd be ok with going on a date," she said with a faint blush. "But only if our destination has high ceilings. And windows."
"How about patio seating?" Soul asked thickly. She glanced up at his face, and even in the penetrating darkness she could see him smiling.
"Yes! I would do anything for a Diet Coke and a little sky right–"
With the speed and sudden movement of a roller coaster, the elevator began to plummet at thrice its normal speed. The elevator car's motion was sudden enough that Maka's body briefly lifted off the floor, and her stomach flip-flopped in her torso. Soul and Maka collided like magnets, holding each other in the dark as they screamed their remaining lungs out.
After dropping for what felt like an eternity, the elevator car abruptly slowed, and once it came to a smooth stop, it dinged. The doors flew open, and light flooded the small enclosed space. Maka was blinded, and through squinted eyes she saw a lobby full of various maintenance professionals and firemen waiting for them. Soul was the one to help her to her feet, and he was also the one to pick up Maka's forgotten red heels as they staggered out.
They spent roughly two hours in that suspended metal deathtrap. Both Soul and Maka were entitled to several thousand dollars in compensation for the lift's shoddy emergency measures and the building's inability to get them out without sending them on a bender. Neither were interested in suing just yet. After getting her shoes back and telling her boss that no, she was not coming back into work that day or the next day, the two left the building for a much-earned drink.
The sky never looked brighter or more wonderful than their first date.