It wasn’t until Sebastian stepped into view, and then into the elevator, that Fallon realized who had called out to hold the door. (In hindsight, it made sense — how many Irishmen were staying at the motel?) She had come to meet him in a rather unorthodox way: a mistyped phone number, one digit off from what she had been provided, had connected them, and when she learned that he was also a guest of the Starlite, she figured it had to be some sort of sign.
Fallon leaned over to press the button for the second floor and the doors closed. “You’re welcome, 205.” It was a silly sort of thing, that they called each other by their room numbers, but it was far too amusing to her to stop. “Yeah, I heard about what happened. Figured better safe than sorry.” The elevator lurched into movement and they began to ascend, only to come to an abrupt stop, the lamp overhead flickering out, plunging the small lift into complete darkness. Paralyzed by the loss of light, she stood completely still, unsure of what was happening. “Sebastian?” she whispered in the dark, trying to gather the nerve to move, to search her pockets for her cell phone. “What just happened?”
Seb nodded sagely, wishing he’d had the same opportunity to make the safer choice. His guitar wasn’t worth a hell of a lot outside of sentimental value, but he’s seen it like an extension of himself. He played music -- a lifestyle and an identity. He suspected Fallon might understand, but she seemed on more steady ground, cash and equipment-wise. She wouldn’t lose her ability to make music in the blink of an eye. He reflected on their vague intentions to collaborate, and wondered if she’d be alright with him just borrowing her keyboard instead.
When the elevator suddenly went dark, Seb’s first reaction was annoyance. He was used to hole-in-the-wall establishments where things worked half the time with luck, but he was usually out rather than hanging around, and in better spirits than he was today. Fallon’s voice -- she seemed tense. “Elevator’s power is out,” he noted, staying pressed against the wall to avoid a collision if she also decided to move. “At least there isn’t far to fall.” Time passed glacially in the dark, and he began to wonder if anyone knew the elevator had stopped, or would find out. Easier to just take the stairs unless travelling with baggage -- if only he’d done the same.
