Got a signal? My phone is acting like we're in a lead box. Typical. Probably won't matter since we'll likely be stuck here until the morning shift arrives. It reminds me of being stuck by that vending machine in the lobby at 3am last Tuesday. You know, the one that eats quarters like they're nothing? I think it's just a metaphor for our current situation. We're just waiting to be consumed.
It's not a metaphor, Gil. It's just a lift. And the morning shift won't be here for another hour. Don't be so dramatic. Honestly, if we're stuck, we're stuck. There's no use pacing the floor. My legs already ache from standing all day at the gallery.
An hour? That's a long time to stare at the ceiling. And don't call it drama, it's just... observation. If we're here for an hour, do you think there's enough air? I'm not saying we'll suffocate, but it's tight in here. Maybe we should try the call button again? Just to see if someone's actually listening or if it's just a hollow sound in a metal box.
The air is fine. We aren't in a vacuum. You pressed the button ten minutes ago, so why bother again? It’s just a buzzer, Gil. If someone's listening, they'll call. Otherwise, just sit back. You're making the space feel even smaller than it actually is.
Right, right. Sit back. It’s not like the floor is particularly ergonomic. I just thought... well, sometimes a buzzer needs a little coaxing, doesn't it? Is it getting warmer? It feels warmer. Maybe it's just the lights. Or the lack of ventilation. If we end up sweating through our shirts before the morning shift even wakes up, I'm blaming your stoicism. Does the ceiling look lower to you?
It’s not getting warmer. It’s just you. You’re the one pacing, so of course you’re heating up the room. The ceiling is exactly where it was five minutes ago. If you're so worried about your shirt, just stop moving so much. Honestly, you're making a mountain out of a tiny metal box.
Is it a mountain? Fine. If I stop moving, will you finally admit the temperature has spiked? You're so composed. It’s actually a little annoying. Most people would be at least a little annoyed, but you're acting like we're just sitting in a park. If we’re trapped here, we might as well acknowledge the claustrophobia. Or is that too much to ask? Should we check the light again?
It's not a park, it's a lift. And we aren't "trapped," we're just waiting. You keep acting like this is some grand tragedy, but it's just a delay. If you want to acknowledge it, fine, but don't expect me to start hyperventilating just to make you feel better. It's exhausting.
Hyperventilating? Who said anything about hyperventilating? You’re making me sound like a wreck. I'm just... staying engaged. There’s a difference. If we just sit there perfectly still, we’ll lose all our momentum. Like a car engine, or something. Probably a bad comparison. Everything is probably fine. Are you sure you're not actually bored? You're being awfully efficient with your breathing. It's a little unnerving.
Efficiency is better than panicking. And yes, I'm bored. I'm bored with the heat, the floor, and your engine analogies. If you need "momentum," go walk in a circle. Just try not to bump into the walls. Some of us actually like the silence when it happens.
Walk in a circle? This isn't a gymnasium, Pia. And the silence is heavy. It’s not a peaceful silence, it's the kind of quiet that makes you hear your own pulse. But fine, you want silence? I’ll be silent. Let's see how long you last before the boredom becomes too much to bear. Do you think the receptionist even knows we're here? Or is she too busy with her tea?
Probably. She’s always more interested in her Earl Grey than the building's maintenance. And don't give me that look—you’ll be the first one to break the silence in two minutes. You can't stand the quiet. It forces you to think too much.
Two minutes? That’s generous. But you're right, it does force you to think. It makes everything feel much more... immediate. It’s easy to ignore things when there's noise, isn't it? Like the structural integrity of this thing. If we're still here in thirty minutes, do you think the Earl Grey will still be hot? Or will she have forgotten us entirely by then?
She'll probably have finished the tea and moved on to a biscuit by the time we're out. Stop worrying about the temperature of her drink. If you’re so worried about structural integrity, stop leaning against the door. We haven't fallen yet, have we? It’s just a cable or two.
Just a cable or two. You make it sound like a bungee jump. If a cable snaps, we won't be worrying about tea or biscuits, will we? We'll be much too busy being a very sudden, very heavy problem for the people on the ground floor. But you're right. You're always so pragmatic. It's almost impressive. Is it efficient to be that calm when we're dangling in the dark?
We aren't dangling in the dark. The lights are on. It’s just a bit dim, Gil, not a void. And being calm isn't an "efficiency," it's just easier than acting like the world is ending every time something stops working. Besides, if we fall, it'll be over too fast to worry.
Too fast to worry? That’s a terrifyingly casual way to look at it. You’re almost making it sound like a vacation. If we plummet, at least we won't have to deal with the morning shift or the gallery or... anything else. But honestly, you're making the stakes so low it's hard to take the danger seriously. Is it really just a bit dim? Or are we just waiting for the bulb to pop?
It’s just dim. It’s not a gothic novel. If you want it to be a life-or-death situation so badly, fine, but don't expect me to join in. The bulb is fine. It's just an old light. Now, can we please just sit here without you treating every shadow like an omen?
An omen? That's a bit much, isn't it? It's just a shadow. But fine, if you're so certain nothing is going to fall apart, we can just sit. We can be perfectly still and wait for the morning shift to find us like two statues. Though, to be honest, if the lights do flicker, don't expect me to be the one grabbing your hand. We'll just be two people, quietly being swallowed by the dark.
If the lights flicker, you'll probably jump anyway. And don't act like you wouldn't grab my hand. You're practically vibrating with nerves. Just sit. If the dark swallows us, at least we won't have to listen to you talk about the importance of momentum. Let's see how long you last.