The elevator opens, I see three people walk inside. One, a middle aged woman—probably in her late twenties—covering her body is a huge black jacket that seemed to swallow her whole. I wonder what she's hiding beneath that covering.
My eyes slipped pass her and met raven curls, a fistful of silky darkness. My eyes slithered down from his hair onto his long, slender neck to his broad shoulders covered by an expensive Armani suit. I look at his left hand—albeit briefly—I see no ring.
Something rudely bumped my shoulder and I realized it was the third person. He had tattoos all over his pale skin. His jaw looked like it could cut a man's head from his body. He looked threatening in his leather jacket. I try to make myself smaller as possible.
My eyes could've skimmed all over him of it wasn't for the elevator door opening again. A level lower from my room, and a lot closer to the ground floor. What I hate about elevators is that they make people anxious, conscious, and personally, elevators bring out the judgmental side of me.
I may never know who these people really are once they step outside the constricting walls of the elevator. But within these walls—inside my world—a blonde woman wearing skimpy clothes can be a hooker, a guy with bloodshot eyes could be a gang member, an astronaut, a divorced mother or a florist.
My thoughts stop, but not completely at ease. Like a train, I blow off steam as it's wheels slows down until it completely stops. The elevator door slowly opens, and in a blink of my eye, I am alone again. My back leaves the cold wall of the lift, my hand reached out to the close button. But something is pulling me back, its like my hand is turning against me. It refuses to close the door, but the elevator speaks: "Closing in: 3...2..." and my legs move.
Now, I find myself outside of the elevator, I am now one with the crowd. Bewildered, my legs slowly go north, towards the glass doors of the building. My hands slowly push the doors open, a tsunami of city air engulfs my body. I am am outside in the city, far away from the constricting walls of the elevator.
My head looks to the side, I see the woman that was once wearing a jacket. Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, she breaks free and turns into a butterfly. Her body moves with grace in complete sync to the beating of the drums that the guy covered in tattoo plays, I see the passion in his eyes, I no longer feel threatened by him.
My hand suddenly goes to my lips, and I realize that I am smiling. I let the smile stay, like it is a welcome visitor. My legs take me to a cafe, this time I let them take the lead. The sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee makes my mouth water, but I see the line of eager costumers, I suddenly felt like a kid.
My balloon is popped, with nothing but a small piece of metal. Funny how the smallest things can ruin our moods. I am about to turn and leave, when my body collides with something. Suddenly the sounds around me become muffled, am I going def?
But one sound stood out, it was deep, smooth and made my legs wobble. "Are you alright, miss?" By habit, I quickly squeaked out a "I'm fine," but I know I'm not. It was the same man on the elevator. The man with no ring on his finger. A warm hand touches my shoulder, it was his, touching my shoulder—it's physical contact—why am I freaking out?
"Miss, are you sure you're fine?" My lips, my oh so traitorous lips, spoke out, "You're gorgeous." I want to run away and find a hard wall, I want to hit myself until I forget this ever happened.
But I can't, because he laughed, and it's beautiful. I'm trapped, like a fly, I am attracted to the light, I don't want to get burned, but it's too beautiful.
"Thank you, I tend to have that effect on people sometimes." My eyes betrayed me as well and I'm rolling my eyes at him. My mouth, still traitorous, spoke out: "You're also cocky, how nice."
He leaned in closer, my lungs betray me and they stop functioning. "You're holding up the line. Maybe you should sit down, and you can insult me more over a cup of coffee." I finally regained control of my own body, and I my lips curled slightly into a smile and I nod.
The whole time I could still hear it's wails, it took a lot of willpower for me to stop myself from running back to it's walls. But as I drank my cup of coffee with the guy on the elevator, I could no longer hear it's calls.
A Small Reminder
Whenever I order from Starbucks I always try to refrain from choosing the same drink I ordered before. Sometimes I regret doing it, and sometimes I give myself a small pat in the back. Whenever I have a chance to order at Starbucks, I know what I should and shouldn't order. But sometimes, I forget and I'll accidentally order the ones I didn't like before.
And I think that's fine with me.