First day on the job, Nate strode to the elevator. None of his co-workers would know how new his starched white button-up and dark slacks were, or that he first learned how to knot his plain, blue tie just hours ago. In fact, he was already complimented by folks in the lobby, and the secretary who welcomed him had lowered her glasses for a better look. Nate rubbed his smooth-shaven jaw. An office job was a far cry from the field research he’d done over the summer, but a paycheck was a paycheck.
The semi-reflective doors parted with an excited ding and Nate tapped for the third floor. From across the lobby, he saw another man break into a light jog. Feeling generous, Nate held his finger against the ‘open door’ button.
“Thanks dude.” The other man said. They had to be the same mid-twenties age, probably a recent hire judging from his tardiness. The man punched for the fourth floor with his pinky and faced the doors. Standing beside him, Nate couldn’t get a good enough look. He was dressed in the same corporate uniform, but with a green tie and his black hair pulled into a bun. The man started drumming a beat on his messenger bag. He nodded along to himself before abruptly stopping. The man then murmured an apology. Nate thought to say something, but his floor came too fast. He stepped out into the cubicle farm, ready to begin his 9 to 5.
The next day, he got a better look at the man as he hurried to the elevator. Round face with a few hairs on his chin, wide nose, and dark eyes that Nate got exactly a glimpse of before looking away. The man looked strong, Nate found himself thinking. He might’ve played sports in college. The way he ran reminded Nate of a sprinter. While he could never keep up with the track and field crowd, Nate was always told that he was built like a football player.
The elevator doors closed and standing between the two men was a thin, crisply-dressed woman who worked on Nate’s floor. He hadn’t gotten her name yet and he would ask her, but the other man’s light green shirt distracted him. Again that man apologized for his drumming. Her ponytail swept her shoulder when she turned and she told him it was fine. She and Nate exited onto their floor after having ridden in silence.
In hindsight, Nate didn’t know why he chose to wear his dark blue button up. He stuck out from the other day workers’ bright colors and whites, even if they didn’t say anything. He shot his arm out when he saw the other man pace across the lobby. He had a wide smile on his face for a moment that drew a grin onto Nate’s face. The man’s eyelids hung a bit like his shoulders did. As they went up, Nate saw him cover a yawn with his fist. He had the thought to say something, but couldn’t negotiate his mouth to move. The man rapped his simple beat again before cussing and saying sorry. The second floor opened up and their elevator of two became a silent ride of five. Nate got off on his floor and was greeted by Yvonne. When she returned to typing up their client’s financial report her ponytail whipped across her back.
The semi-reflective doors closed, leaving Nate alone on his ride up. The elevator felt more spacious, yet Nate was crowded by his thoughts. That morning man was in his thoughts more than he’d admit to anyone, especially himself. Something about him; his contagious smile, handsome face, the slight nod to his beat that made his tied hair bounce remained clear in Nate’s mind. He knew nothing about that man, what he did, what his hours were, even his name was a mystery—all Nate had was speculation. On breaks he expected to see the man in cafeteria, but never did. Nate only ever saw him when he was literally running late for work. He considered asking Yvonne about him, but phrasing it was beyond him. Embarrassed, Nate pushed for his floor and tried to limit his thoughts to the data entry he was hired to do.
Nate reached his arm out the door, grinning but only briefly. The man hurried through the elevator doors and thanked Nate. It was debatable whether he’d slept in two days. His attire suffered, being wrinkled and unevenly buttoned. In the blurry reflection of the elevator doors he tried to fix his shirt and pull his hair into a tiny tail at his neck. Nate tried not to stare at the morning man. He was clearly rushed, so Nate held his tongue. At the third floor, Nate left for his cubical, he heard the man cuss and ask where his bag was.
Like each day before, once 5pm hit Nate was gone. He and Yvonne were meeting up later at a pub she knew downtown. In the moment, inexplicable guilt had almost stopped him, but as he waited for the elevator he was glad to have some fun to look forward to.
The doors pulled away and the morning man locked eyes with Nate. He was holding one of those paper ream boxes. The man quickly turned his gaze elsewhere, stepping off to the side of the elevator. Nate quietly entered and pushed the already lit lobby level. Nate inhaled and tried to look over at the man. He was leaned against the wall with his eyes fixated on the tile floor. Nate felt speechless again. No words came to him, so Nate tapped on his pants, his beat skipped a few times, but he hoped it would do. He heard the morning man sigh.
“Sorry.” Nate said before the elevator’s hollow bell rang.