An Unspoken Bond

        An Unspoken Bond

        It is bland, so bland. So bland that his heart aches at the sight of the white walls that seem grey they’re so unclean. He holds his head tightly in his hands, feeling that the physical pressure keeps him from exploding. He feels like his brain wants out, that it wants a better life without numbers, facts and figures. Richard’s eyes are dry and bloodshot, and he can feel every pulse in his brain. He hates his work, finds it too hectic. And in those hectic hours, the ringing of hundreds of telephones overlap one another as people scurry along with their coffees, spilling some while another slips on the mess that will dry and stay there all week. 
        Richard gets up and speeds across the floor, still holding his head, as his floor’s bathroom is under maintenance. With quick, long strides he reaches the top of the staircase, then the men’s room. He stays there, inhales deeply, knows he’s inhaling dust and hundreds of dead skin cells. He stays there, exhales old particles. He stays there, he thinks he should take a yoga class. He thinks that he would if he were female. But he’s not, so he goes out for a smoke instead.
          He smokes two cigarettes in quick succession and then waits in front of the elevator to get back to his station, his cage. The doors open, and Steve is there. Richard waits for him to walk out, but he doesn’t. “Shit”, he thinks as he goes to stand inside, beside the man who originally caused Richard’s bloodshot eyes and chain-smoking habit. The doors shut and head towards the eighth floor, Steve’s floor.

          It is awkward, so awkward. So awkward that Richard finds himself wishing that he had a bag to rummage through in order to keep himself busy, but all he has are his cigarettes. He taps his fingers on the case, creates a two-note melody. Steve lightly taps his foot. They’re at the seventh floor when the lights flicker, the elevator stops. This happens often in the run-down building, but both men grab at the walls anyway after having lost their balance.
          They don’t question what is going on, Richard just groans instead. There couldn’t be a worst case scenario. Steve, being cool, calm and collected, pushes the elevator’s buttons but they have no reaction. So they wait, they wait… and they wait.
          After waiting some more, Richard slumps down in a corner and pretends that there’s no awkwardness. Steve does the same standing up. Richard chews the inside of his cheek as Steve shifts his weight from foot to foot. They both feel very awkward as they fiddle.
          Richard, suddenly feeling rather sadistic and obnoxious, puts Steve in an even more uncomfortable place as he asks how Diane is doing.
          “She’s good. She’s real good. She finally got that nurse job she always wanted”.
          “That’s good. Real good. I remember when she was always studying, always reading those remedial books. I’m glad she’s finally got it”. But Richard was still a little bitter. 
          “Pretty busy today, huh? That goddamn phone of mine was ringing non-stop, just always ringing. For nine hours straight!” Steve says to Richard, who nods, shrugs, lifts his eyebrows and sighs all at once. He starts biting the inside of his cheek again as Steve fiddles.
          “What’s taking so long?” Richard loosens his tie and his shirt cuffs, takes off his shoes and uses his jacket as a backrest, hoping that physical comfort will ease the thick atmosphere surrounding the pair. They’ve been coupled together for something like half an hour.
          Steve next decides that being friendly is the best route. The tension was dimming, anyhow. He refuses to talk about the weather, so he asks of Richard’s hobbies and interests. 
          “I don’t do much, you know. Nothing feels right. I don’t even sleep”.
          Steve, refusing to let the tension build up again, talks about fishing. Catching the fish is calming, cooking the fish is calming, and eating the fish is calming, he says. He suggests that Richard should try it sometime. Richard gives a curt nod and after a moment of silence, decides to bring up the subject of love. Love doesn’t exist, you can fall in “love” with anyone as long as there is physical attraction, he says. He says more, and he rants. He rants about how it’s all meaningless, how everyone is the same except for their tastes. He rants about everything until his mouth becomes as dry as his eyes, and he stops. He thinks about everything he’s said, and then he notices the ring on Steve’s left hand.
          “That’s great, man. That’s real great. I’m real happy for you both. Real happy. I’m sure you’re in love”.

          It is quiet, so quiet. So quiet that Steve’s ticking watch thuds against Richard’s still-throbbing brain. The elevator lights turn back on all of a sudden, and the buttons light up right as the shaft proceeds to the eighth floor. The doors open to two uniformed janitors. Richard tightly puts his shoes back on. He tightly buttons his cuffs and tightly ties his tie back in place and stands alongside Steve. Both men grab their belongings, step out of the elevator, and go back to work without another word.