Work Text:
Covid restrictions have lifted, so work has sent me on my first business trip since early 2020. It’s my first time in LA so I’m super nervous but also super excited. I’ve only ever seen LA in films so I have no idea what to really expect, but as I walk through the lobby of The Belfry Beverly Hills, I feel a wave of anxiety immediately hit me. It’s such a beautiful hotel, high ceilings, stunning floors, classic and modern art on the walls and natural light filling the lobby. A man playing a grand piano to welcome the guests. I suddenly feel very out of place. I’ve stayed in nice hotels before, but business trips are normally small chain hotels that have very questionable stains on the walls. I look around at all the clientele, and they are exactly what you would expect to see in Hollywood. Ladies immaculately dolled up to the nines, wearing what looks to be VERY expensive clothing. Tiny dogs being carried in hand bags. Men wearing suits that look like they cost more than my car did. Literally everybody looks like they could be a celebrity. I feel incredibly under dressed in my jeans and battered red converse that have really seen better days.
I check in, a woman named Maddy takes my details. She’s so beautiful I feel self conscious that I look like a sewer rat after being delayed at Heathrow for 5 hours, followed by my 10 hour flight and manic journey to the hotel through LA traffic. Maddy flashes a smile with her perfect classic American teeth and hands me my room card. Room 248. 8th floor. Shit.
I hate lifts. With a passion. I always take the stairs to avoid them, but after all the travelling, my legs are like lead and I just couldn’t handle the stairs all the way to floor 8. I just want to eat and go to bed.
I sit in the lobby for a bit pretending to look at my phone, but I can’t focus. I’m taking deep breaths, psyching myself up for the lift. It won’t take long, I’m sure…but still. I could do without it. I sit there for at least 30 minutes before my eyelids become so heavy it hurts.
Fuck it. I’m hungry, I’m tired, my phone needs charging. I need to get to my room.
I stride towards the lift. Be casual. People do this all the time and they’re fine. You’ll be fine. The lift will work as it is supposed to. You won’t get trapped in the doors and cut in half. Or plummet several stories. The bottom will not fall out of the lift, leaving you to fall down the shaft. Oh fuck, can they do that? Are they designed to do that?! I don’t even take a moment to laugh at the word shaft, I just take one last breath and push the button to call the airless, windowless coffin that will take me to my floor. Annoyingly, it’s right there so I don’t even have a few more seconds to prepare.
I step into the lift and push the button to my floor, watching number 8 light up. The doors are closing just as I see a giant hand stop the doors, watching them open, revealing a tall, blue eyed man with dirty blonde hair hanging over his face. He pushes his hair back and catches my eye.
“So sorry” he smiles. “I hate waiting for these things”
I smile and give an awkward thumbs up. Fucks sake. Turns out I’m socially inept internationally too. Super.
My new lift mate pushes the button to floor 11. He politely stands in the corner furthest away from me, pulling his phone out and busies himself. The lift is quite small, but to be honest it could be huge and I would still feel the walls closing in on me. Even just the two of us makes my heart rate raise slightly.
The lift is moving far slower than I would like. It takes what feels like a lifetime to move from ground floor to first. We get to floor 5 and hear a clunk. That’s never a good noise to hear generally, but a lift is the very last place you want to hear it. The lift stops suddenly, making both me and the tall man slightly stumble backwards. He instinctively reaches out to steady me by my arm.
“Whoa, you ok?” He asks with an honest tone.
“Erm I’m fine. Im fine” I manage to squeak out in a voice that is clearly not fine. My heart is now pumping so hard in my chest I can feel it in my throat. Which is suddenly very dry.
My legs have turned to jelly and my breathing is erratic. Oh fuck. I can not have a panic attack right now. I just can’t. My vision is starting to blur. I need to get out of here. Now.
My lift mate immediately notices my shift in mood and again, gently asks me if I’m ok, a sincere expression on his neatly bearded face.
I’m really not. But I hate making a fuss so I lie and say I’m fine, a little too fast.
He lets out a small laugh. “From one anxious person to another, you’re a really bad liar, you know” he says with a warm smile.
“We’re going to be ok. I’ve kind of always wanted to push this” he smiles and calmly activates the emergency button which rings out until a small voice comes through the speaker, asking if we need assistance.
“Yeah, we are incredibly stuck. Not moving at all” he says, looking at me rolling his eyes. I feel he is trying to keep me calm, but it’s not working. My hands are now shaking so hard he immediately notices.
He looks at me with a concerned expression, shifting from one foot to another as the woman tells him emergency services have been called but it could take up to an hour. A whole fucking hour.
My eyes widen and my legs give out under me, I don’t even notice him catch me and gently lower me to the floor.
“Hey hey, it’s ok. We’re safe. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re ok, I promise. I promise” his voice is so soothing and gentle.
I don’t know why, but as scared as I am, I really do feel safe with him. I shouldn’t. We literally met just now. But I do. I‘m suddenly so glad he’s here with me as being alone in this situation is too much to think about.
“I’m Bo” he says in a slight Boston accent, holding his hand out.
“Remi” I manage to whisper out in-between deep breaths, shaking his hand, which totally envelopes mine. I almost forget to let go.
“Remi! Nice name! Where are you from?” He asks, noticing my accent.
I tell him where I’m from and he immediately says “OH ALLOOOOO” in the most ridiculous British accent I’ve ever heard. But it makes me laugh, which makes him smile hard, cutting the tension a little.
My hands are shaking so hard, my legs are pulled up to my chest and I’m gripping onto my knees like they would fall off if I let go.
Bo asks if he can sit next to me, and I nod. I think I’m going to be sick. I REFUSE be sick in front of this lovely American man.
He is so calm, I don’t know how he’s not freaking out with me, but I'm so glad he’s not. Though I do notice his left knee bouncing rapidly and he is gently tracing his upper arm with his fingertips. A self soothing method I know only too well.
“Hey, breathe with me ok?” He quietly says in the most tender voice. “Look at me. Breathe”.
I look at him, his hand is on his chest and he’s taking deep breaths, telling me to follow his lead. I try to mirror his breathing, but I’m still gasping.
He shifts and sits on his knees directly in front of me, reaches out and takes both my hands in his.
“Is this ok?” he asks. He waits for my reaction, reading my body language.
I nod. He holds my hands so gently, yet so secure. Rubbing his thumbs on mine.
“I promise, it’s going to be ok….of course unless we fall to our deaths”
Tears immediately fill my eyes as I hold back a sob. Bo looks at me, horrified
“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry! Truly. I was trying to make a stupid joke. Which of course was stupid. Fuck. I’m sorry”
He’s still rubbing my thumbs and I smile at him, partly because he’s being so lovely, and partly to make him feel better for making me cry.
My breathing is calming now, and my heart rate has lowered but I can still feel it in the soles of my feet. Boom. Boom. Boom. Stay calm. Just stay calm. I’ve spent so much fucking money on apps to learn how to calm my anxiety, but I can’t recall a single thing they have taught me. I make a mental note to ask for a refund.
Time passes, Bo asks me about why I’m here, my job, if I’ve ever been here before. He shows me photos on his phone of his small, scruffy looking but incredibly cute dog, and I show him photos of mine. Thinking about her suddenly makes me wish I could just close my eyes and wake up at home, safe. I made such a mistake flying out here. It’s so far out of my comfort zone. I am a ball of anxiety in general, but a casual global pandemic has not exactly helped.
After almost an hour, the initial panic has subsided, but I still can’t wait to get out of here. My exhausted body suddenly catches up with me and my eyes become incredibly itchy. I barely slept last night with travel anxiety, and couldn’t nod off on the plane despite me downing 6 vodka and cokes in an attempt to knock myself out, which didn’t work. I’ve been awake for well over 36 hours now and my contact lenses are screaming for me to take them out.
Another 30 minutes pass. We played an extremely short game of I Spy, a few thumb wars which I totally won, though I do wonder if Bo let me win to keep me distracted, considering he had such big beautiful hands.
Bo stands up and pushes the emergency button again. Our lifeline to the outside. The same woman answers and tells us help will be with us soon. Bo thanks her politely whilst giving me a sympathetic smile.
He slides down next to me, brushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning his head back against the lift wall, letting out a loud sigh. He barely has enough room to stretch out his long legs, rubbing his thigh back and forth just before hitting the exposed knee of his ripped jeans. More self soothing. He must be so uncomfortable, but his main concern is me. He asks how I’m holding up, and I can barely keep myself from yawning. The heat in the lift really isn’t helping my tiredness.
In a low and gentle voice, Bo tells me I might as well get some rest whilst we wait. We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until I feel my eyelids closing before I can even stop them.
I wake up to incredibly loud banging outside the lift doors, I realise I’ve been asleep and my head was resting on Bo’s shoulder. I immediately apologise and worry that I may have drooled on his nice fancy looking button down shirt. He laughs in the most beautiful and genuine sounding tone, one dimple showing on his right cheek, and tells me it’s fine. He was about to say something else when we heard another loud bang outside the lift and voices, shouting that the LA fire department was here and trying to free us. I immediately feel stupid that the fucking LA fire dept have had to stop what they were doing to free us. They’ll surely throw me out of the country for wasting their time like this.
After 10 more minutes of horrible grinding metal sounds and loud voices, the doors fly open, the cool air rushing in and people outside the lift are CLAPPING. Oh god. An audience. Bo stands up, turns to me with his hand out, helping me to my feet. He thanks the fire crew, leads me out to find the nearest seat and sits me down. The hotel staff approached us with water, handing Bo a bottle which he immediately passes to me, even opening the lid knowing my now again shaking hands couldn’t handle it.
“Drink” he almost demands.
I don’t hesitate, I drink like I’ve never had water in my entire life. I feel it run all the way down into my stomach. It’s cold and the best tasting thing I’ve ever had in my life. I bring the bottle to my forehead and feel it cooling my no doubt red face. I tell myself to never take water for granted ever again.
Bo has pretty much necked his entire bottle and is sitting back stretching his long legs fully. The hotel staff make sure we are okay and tell us we will need to fill out some paperwork for insurance reasons, but I’m not really listening. I’m just happy to be in the wide, air conditioned corridor. Even if I am on the wrong floor.
Bo asks if he can walk me to my room. I thank him for still sticking around when he didn’t have to and tell him he can leave me here if he needs to go. He scrunches his nose.
“Hey, we just had a near death experience. Lucky to be alive. They’ll write movies about us. The least I can do is make sure you get to your room safe”
I laugh and roll my eyes, as Bo once again helps me to my feet. Walking like a newborn giraffe, we make our way to the stairs.
“You sure you don’t wanna…” Bo gestures towards the remaining seemingly working lifts with a cheeky grin.
We climb the last few floors before we reach my room. I scan my card and the door opens, leading into a truly beautiful room with huge windows, overlooking the city, which by now is twinkling with the lights of a very bustling LA evening. More fancy looking artwork on the walls, and a bed which is massive and looks comfier than anything I have ever seen in my life. I have to physically stop myself from flopping onto it like an exhausted starfish.
I sat on the bed. The concierge had already dropped my bags off. Bo makes sure I’m settled and I have everything I need before saying his goodbyes.
I can’t stop myself. I stand up and hug him so tightly. He hugs me back, hard, like he really really needed the hug too. I can feel his heart beating just as fast as mine, fully confirming the fact that he had indeed been freaking out as much as I was, just hiding it very well indeed to keep me from fully spiralling.
“Thank you for taking care of me and keeping me calm. I don’t know what I would have done without you, Bo”
“Oh, it’s nothing”, he says with a shy smile. “Thank you for not punching me in the face for making dumb jokes that made you cry. Maybe next time!”
He leaves and I shower, get ready for bed and look through the room service menu at all the ridiculously expensive food and drink. Fuck it, if my employers are paying for it, after all of this, I’m gonna take full advantage. As I’m scrolling the absurdly priced wine list, there is a knock at my door. Pulling my robe around myself, I answer. Room service.
“We received a request from a guest staying on floor 11. They sent you this” the young man dressed in a very smart red and green uniform smiles
He wheels his trolley into my room, and places a beautiful blue and yellow teapot with a hand written note onto the side table before leaving.
I read the note and smile so hard my face hurts.
“Drink this. I hear it heals your people. Let’s get stuck again soon! B”
I go to bed. Happy.