Matthew Gray Gubler Short Stories - Christmas Edition

What Goes Up... Part 1

This is part 1. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow under the title "... Must Come Down."

It's a long one, so you have warned :)

May contain swearing  and some graphic (implied violence) scenes

Cast:

Y/N = You (Yes, you. Hello, hi)

Matthew = 3 guesses

Y/M/F = A male friend of yours (or his, whatever you want)

Y/M/F/L/N = Your male friend's last name (I know it's long but just go with it)

What Goes Up...

Y/N smiled contently as she walked past the apartment complex and round to the side gate, the fresh winter's snow crackling underfoot. Shivering, she hunched her shoulders towards her chest to shield her from the cold. Heading towards the entrance, she uncharacteristically contemplated running towards the door but thought better of it. She may have been freezing but she wasn't one for turning up red faced and panting. Instead, she walked speed-walking, her satchel hitting her left side as she moved. Finding the door, she pressed a fingerless gloved finger to a silver button. It made a beeping sound as the intercom whirred into action.

"Hello?"

"Visitor for apartment five."

"Come on through." The person was faintly heard as they buzzed her into the complex. Y/N pushed the door open. It was the first in a series of barriers that kept her from being completely wrapped in a cosy blanket by the fire but she was grateful to be heading into the warm nonetheless. The next obstacle stood, or rather sat, no fewer than ten feet away. It was more of a challenge to get to the elevator than it was to actually get inside the building.

She nodded at the security guard who was sitting in his booth as she approached him. He handed her a clipboard and a pen over his small counter with a wide smile.

"How are ya, Barry?" She asked as she wrote her name in block capitals along with her arrival time on the sign in sheet.

"Not bad, my darlin'. How are you?" He replied, his Jamaican accent thickening as he eased into conversation with her.

She looked up at him and grinned before signing her name. "Same old, Barry. Same old."

He nodded and she passed back the clipboard in exchange for a visitor pass and an elevator key card. Not that she really needed one; she did have her own set of key cards for the apartment she was visiting. It was just mandatory that anyone who didn't live in the complex was required to sign in and provide a clear form of identification – even if she was on first name terms with the security guards. It kept criminal activity and the opportunity for wild parties to a minimum – something the building management wasn't keen on but had to relent to in some cases due to the level of networking that went on in some of the apartments that were rented out or bought by celebrities and music management companies. In return for them providing secure, serviced housing for the talented elite they would turn a blind eye to the multitude of guests some of their residents allowed into the building – provided they gave ample identification. Semi-permanent guests who stayed over in the facilities like Y/N were also made to meet the building's manager so that they could conduct an informal interview of sorts just to make sure they were allowing the "right" kind of people into the complex.

Y/N took her purse out of her pocket and flipped open the note section to flash her driver's license. Barry might've known Y/N from her numerous stays over the years but he still had to be seen doing the correct procedures. Security measures were strict when it came to providing for some of the world's talent and given that there were CCTV cameras at every angle, one breach of conforming to the rules and he would find himself out of a job. He might've been given his post to sign in guests and survey some of the footage as it occurred in his sector but there were eyes everywhere and management were surely lurking in the shadows so that any missed protocol could be corrected as soon as possible.