=== Friendly warning: This story includes piss play ===
*****
I sighed as I leaned over and used my elbow to press the button to call the elevator. My forehead was sweaty, but there was no way for me to wipe it. AC often went out here in the basement - the central archive room of the building. The heavy box full of documents was breaking my back, but that wasn't the worst part of the day. My piece of crap manager told me to reorganize a bunch of ancient reports for no good reason. Nobody needed these papers - he just didn't like the idea of me having a break from work so he gave me a meaningless task just to keep me busy! But I didn't complain, at least out loud. I did the work that was asked of me - even though I spent the better part of the morning on it - and was about to drop it off at one of the smaller archives on the seventh floor.
The elevator let out a chime and the door opened slowly. I walked inside with a grim expression on my face. Two years at this company already, and I was still stuck in this shitty internship position. My salary was crap, I was pretty much at the bottom of the company hierarchy and the worst part was that it was a long way to pretty much any higher role.
It was depressing. I joined this company in the hopes of really making it here. Or at least getting something that would look nice on my resume. But at this rate, I would be happy to just get decent pay. As the elevator went up slowly, I was thinking about my miserable career and I remembered some wise words that my father told me a long time ago.
"Son, this world isn't gonna cut you any slack. If you want to be successful, you better grasp every single opportunity you can get."
Yeah, that's what he would always say. But that was easier said than done. How was I supposed to do that when no opportunities were presenting themselves, dad?!
The elevator slowed down and stopped at the ground floor. While still holding the box, I stepped to the side to make room for the people about to enter. Only one person ended up stepping inside. A tall man with a frame that would be a good challenge to most doorways, with white hair and a magnificent beard. Strikingly handsome, even though he was approaching his sixties. An expensive, perfectly fitting suit, the price of which was apparent to anyone at the first glance, regardless of whether they knew anything about suits. A confident stance and a stern look of a man who knew who he was and where he was going.
I recognized him immediately, of course. His name was Mr. Stenson, and he was the CEO of the company. An absolute legend of the industry. Everyone knew him and everyone respected him. I never personally met him up until that point, but it would be impossible to spend more than a day in this office and not hear his name mentioned at least once. Normally, there would be no opportunity for me to meet him - our ranks were contrasting almost as much as our height and frame difference.
My body froze in place, unsure what to do - even though there was nothing specific that was required of me to do. I watched him enter, wondering if I could be fired just because of having the audacity of sharing the same elevator as him. He passed me a glance as he stepped in and I realized that I should greet him - even though he was the one entering.
"G... Good morning, Mr. Stenson, sir," I stuttered and backed off even further, bumping into the elevator wall. He gave me a nod.
"Morning," he responded as he pressed the topmost button. The door started closing and he assumed a relaxed position as we shared a moment of uncomfortable silence together.
The voice of my father resurfaced in my head again for some reason. I was sure that if my old man was there, he would nudge me to do something. Get his attention. Pitch an idea. Strike an interesting conversation and make him remember you. Make a name for yourself at this company.
Yeah, but what was I supposed to talk about? Our positions could not have been more different. He spent his days running a multi-million international company and I spent mine getting reprimanded for putting the wrong tags on the wrong documents from seven years ago. What was I supposed to talk to him about? Weather? Traffic?
My train of thought was interrupted by a sudden shock.
The elevator halted with a loud screech and the whole elevator cage shook before stopping in place! At the same time, the lights went out. Both Mr. Stenson and I were trapped in complete darkness for a couple seconds, before the emergency lights kicked in, illuminating the room in a bright yellow light of a different shade than before.
I almost lost my balance and yelped out as this was happening. Mr. Stenson kept his cool and gave me a look after it was all over.
"You all right?" he asked in a calm tone.
"Um... yes, sir, I am," I responded, feeling embarrassed about looking like a coward in front of the big boss. He nodded and stepped over to the control panel. He pressed and held the call button to communicate with the technicians in the building. Soon, we heard a beep and a male voice came from a small speaker under the floor buttons.
"Hello, this is maintenance, am I speaking to the passengers in elevator number five?"
"Yes, you are," Mr. Stenson said, "This is Harold Stenson. One other person and I are trapped in this elevator. We require immediate assistance."
"I see, sir," the voice from the speaker said, "It seems like a power issue. We will keep you both informed."
"Okay. Make it quick," Mr. Stenson requested sternly into the microphone.
"Will do, Mr. Stenson," the voice replied before hanging up. The CEO sighed and assumed a less relaxed position than before - standing, facing the elevator, with his hands crossed and a mildly displeased look. He looked irritated. Was he in a rush for some important meeting? Or maybe this just was how the powerful guys were - used to getting their own way and not reacting well when they didn't.
But still, Mr. Stenson seemed frustrated by something. I wasn't there to poke the bear, so I just stood still in my corner, holding the box of papers - which was feeling heavier by the second - just trying to avoid eye contact. My dad's voice was nudging me in my head again but from my point of view, any sort of conversation I would initiate at that point would simply irritate Mr. Stenson even further. So I chose to stand there, deepening the awkward silence between us.
It must have been a couple minutes before he heard a beep and the speaker came to life again, this time on its own - without any buttons being pressed.
"Hello? Am I speaking to the passengers in elevator number five? Are you there, Mr. Stenson?"
"Yes, we are here," the CEO answered on the behalf of both of us. I just stood there in silence.
"Um... I'm afraid we have some bad news," the voice in the speaker said, "There is apparently a blackout in this neighborhood, and losing the power kicked off some unpredicted side effects of the building surge protector security system. You might have to be there for a while."
I saw Mr. Stenson grow even more frustrated in the face.
"What do you mean by a 'while', son?" he asked.
"An hour. Maybe two," the maintenance guy said - sounding a little nervous about breaking this bad news to the head of the company, "Unfortunately, that's how long it will take to reboot the system and get everything in order before the backup power sources kick in."
"You've got to be joking!" Mr. Stenson said, "Can't you at least force the door open and evacuate us that way?"
"No can do, boss," the guy in the speaker replied, "You guys are stuck right between floors. If you opened the door right now, you would just see a big slab of concrete. I'm very sorry about this."
Mr. Stenson slammed his hand against the wall angrily, which was a signal for the guy on the opposite side to end the call. I envied him for the fact that he could just remove himself from the situation, while I was stuck in a small room with the most powerful person in the company, who looked completely pissed off. I tried to make myself small and unimportant, but it didn't seem that Mr. Stenson was really interested in interacting with me anyway. Instead, he stepped over to the opposite wall and leaned on it, crossing his bulging arms on his huge chest, staring at the door in quiet frustration.
I reached into my pocket and checked my phone. No service. These elevators were old and shielded off all cell phone reception. Perhaps he was angry about that? If there was an important meeting, he couldn't even let anybody know that he was stuck. Or was it something else?
I figured that it doesn't really make sense to stay uncomfortable for me for an hour so I put the box down and sat in the corner. I looked up at Mr. Stenson - his frame was even more imposing from this angle. I wondered what was the secret to looking like this in your fifties.
Some time passed - with both of us in silence the whole time. I started playing a game on my phone with the volume down, while Mr. Stenson just stood there, staring at the door. Once in a while, I looked up to check on him and each time I did, he seemed to grow more nervous. Or perhaps uncomfortable? His face had an impatient expression and his hands were crossed tightly on his chest.
A while later, I noticed him moving around as well. He was wiggling uncomfortably in his spot, stepping on the spot, and taking deep breaths. He didn't say anything but it looked unnerving.
The voice of my dad woke up again - a way to open a conversation and make sure he remembers me. Perhaps he was claustrophobic and could use someone to talk him through this ordeal? I wasn't sure if it was a good idea but I cleared my throat.
"Um... sir?"
He turned to me with an expression that hinted that he completely forgot that I was there with him.
"Yes?"
"I... I couldn't help but notice that you look a little bit uncomfortable. Just wanted to check if everything is alright?"
He gave me a long look before answering.
"I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
I knew what he said but his tone suggested that it was a lie. I decided to push it a little bit, against my better judgment.
"Okay, sir... Just wanted to ask. If it was a medical emergency or something, well, I underwent some basic medical training at my last job, and maybe we could talk to the maintenance again..."
"It's not a medical emergency," he interrupted me in an irritated tone, "I need to go to the bathroom, okay? If you must know. I need to take a leak."
