The Lift (A One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Four

   I'm woken by the sound of music. Not the classic movie starring Julie Andrews, but Niall's phone blasting "I Love You Like A Love Song" by Selena Gomez. And the Scene, I guess, whoever that is.

   "Interesting wake-up music," I mumble. When he woke up earlier this morning, I guess, he moved back over to his side of the elevator, because I wake up cuddling a plastic bag. I'm not disappointed or heartbroken, though. We both needed warmth so we used each other's. It wasn't romantic; it was survival.

   "Sorry, did I wake you?" Niall pauses the music.

   "Yeah, but I was going to get up anyway," I respond as I sit up. "What time is it?"

   "7:50," Niall answers. "And still nobody's here."

   Damn. When does work start at this place? I've regrettably accepted that my father doesn't work in this building and that both Niall and I got our addresses wrong, but that still doesn't explain why nobody's come to help us yet.

   Niall suddenly sits up. "Erin I just thought of something."

   "What?" I hope he has a brilliant plan for getting us out of here. "Is it an escape plan? If it is, can we wait a bit? I'm tired as hell and I'll probably mess up and, you know, fall to my miserable death."

   Niall shakes his head. "No. Not an escape plan. Just an idea as to why nobody's found us yet." I pout, but I motion for him to continue.

   "Do you think there might be another lift?" Niall asks, rolling up his sleeves. "Like, one in the back, just for employees?"

   I can honestly say I never once thought about that being a possibility. "That would explain why nobody's fixed this elevator yet, but why hasn't anybody heard us?"

   Niall puts his hand to his chin and rubs it as if he has facial hair. "They could be, like, painting the walls of the first six floors so nobody was even there to hear us."

   That doesn't sound very likely to me but since we have no other ideas, I accept it. The only way we'll actually know is if we get rescued. When we get rescued. I must stay positive.

   "Niall, can I make a request?" I ask timidly.

   "Yeah, sure," he answers.

   "If your management gets us out, and they bring cameras, can you ask them not to publish pictures of me?"

   Yes, I am batshit crazy.

   "Uh, I guess. Why?" Niall reaches into the plastic bags and pulls out some brownies. He opens the box and eats an entire brownie in one bite.

   Om nom nom.

   "I don't really want my claim to fame being the nameless girl who was stuck in an elevator with a member of One Direction," I state truthfully, moving next to him so I can grab myself a brownie. Instead of completely inhaling it like Niall keeps doing, I take three bites before it's gone.

   "Okay that's fine," Niall shrugs. "But I want to show the boys what it's like in here, and you as well, so can I at least take a few pictures?"

   I ponder this for a second. What harm could the other guys possibly do if they see my picture? They'd probably forget it, just like Niall will.

   "As long as the boys are the only people you show, I'm fine with it." I grab another brownie, but this time I nibble around the edges.

   "Yay!" Niall takes out his iPhone. "Smile!"

   I try to put on my most flattering smile, but I'm not very photogenic so it probably came out looking like a horse.

   We take a lot of pictures: one of us, both of us, eating food, clawing the walls, pouting, yelling. We pretty much tell the story of what we've been doing through pictures.