I was almost finished with the music video.  I had completed the studio shots, spent a weekend in the Hamptons doing the beach scenes and would be joining the crew  two days from now for the final shoot upstate.  This afternoon I was meeting Janice and Jenny at Marcie's office for a meeting to discuss an upcoming interview that would be tied with the release of the music video and then get the final details on the fashion show the following week.  Yeah, I still did the catwalk, it was part of two of my biggest contracts, so for now, I had no choice. 

"Hold the elevator!" I called as ran through the lobby.    I could see someone casually leaning against the back wall, his arms crossed over his chest and even his feet crossed over one another, his head aimed down looking at his feet.  He didn't make a move to hold the door, but luckily I was able to grab the door before it closed.   I let out a huff of annoyance as I turned my attention to the tall blond man.  He looked to be about my age, had long blond wavy hair in that unkempt almost grunge look.  My gaze went up and down taking him in.  Yeah, he looked cute, had a nice body, but he obviously didn't care about himself.  Old ripped jeans, probably dirty, the vintage boots were pretty cool, but couldn't he have taken the time to tie them all the way.  A faded plain grey t-shirt and signature Ray-ban aviator sunglasses.   I mean, you're in an elevator, take the sunglasses off dude. 

I hit the button for the third floor and leaned against the side, looking down at my feet as well.  An uncomfortable silence filled the small space. 

"Uh, sorry," he finally muttered as he adjusted his feet, "I..uh, wasn't paying attention." 

"No problem," I replied dully. 

The elevator started to ascend when all of a sudden we could hear a grinding sound and then suddenly the elevator came to an abrupt stop, the light flickering off and only a dim safety light remained. 

"Ah shit," I grumbled as I tried pressing the button to open the door, with nothing happening.  "It won't open," I smacked the wall and swallowed an expletive, "how long are we going to have to sit here in the dark."  I pulled out my cellphone and quickly called Marcie, she knew who owned the building and could call for assistance. 

I turned around toward the wall as the phone rang, a weird habit people have I've noticed when talking on a cellphone.  Like, if they turn around they suddenly have some privacy.  "Mara, put Marcie on," I said sharply into the phone.  "Marcie, I'm stuck in the damn elevator in your building, can you call the manager and tell him to get someone here pronto!"  Marcie assured me she'd get right on it, and I hung up the phone letting out another frustrated sigh.  I turned around and noticed the blond guy on a cellphone as well. 

"Blake.  I was just on my way up but the elevator stopped.  I'm fine.  Listen, we can't get the doors open, can you call Mac and ask him to get down here right away.  Didn't he just inspect it last month?  Well it isn’t fine obviously, tell him to get his ass down here.  Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine, just call him.  Mhm…bye." 

"You know the owner of the building?" I asked.   

"Yeah, I do.  We're quite close," he chuckled. "Well, it might be a while so we might as well sit down and make ourselves comfortable.  My name's Elliott by the way," he said as he sat himself down against the wall. 

I looked around, as if expecting a more comfortable alternative to materialize.  I finally plopped down opposite of him.  "Nice to meet you Elliott." 

Again, the awkward silence until finally Elliott chimed in.  "And you are…." 

Now it was my turn to chuckle, "Oh, you don't know?" 

"Should I?" He asked. 

I looked him up and down, his clothes said thrift shop, and I realized, that no, he probably wouldn't know.  "Sorry, I'm David."  I'm not used to having to introduce myself, usually people recognize me and immediately start talking to me as if they somehow know me just from looking at my pictures.  I held my hand out to shake his, but Elliott didn't make a move to return the gesture.  I finally cleared my throat and he seemed to startle and after a pause he reached his hand out part way.  I leaned myself forward so I could reach him and shook his large hand.  I noticed that the skin on his hand was rough and calloused, as if he did manual labor or something, which surprise me since I'm used to meeting people, both men and women, with finely manicured hands and soft skin.  He had a strong grip too and I would be lying if I didn't admit that the feel of his hand was sexy, I liked his strong, masculine grip and rough, but warm hand. 

He finally pulled his hand back after I awkwardly held on a little too long and I looked up to see a smirk on his face.  I felt my cheeks burn as I'm sure a blush washed across my cheeks.  I frowned at him, annoyed that he could make me feel as awkward as I did when I was a teenager.  Me, David James, the number 1 male model in the world.  Didn't he know who he was dealing with? 

We sat in silence for a few minutes, Elliott seemed to retreat into his own world.  Sitting against the wall, his knees up and his elbows up on his knees.  He was looking down in between his legs as if pondering some great mystery.  He looked like he could sit silently for hours without moving or saying a word, I used to be like that just for the fact that I had no one to talk to.  But Elliott seemed to be like that for a different reason.   

"How would I know?" He asked suddenly. 

"How would you know what?" 

"How would I know who you are David?  Are you…an artist?" 

"No." 

"Writer?" 

"Nope." 

"Musician? Songwriter?" 

I let out a small chuckle, "No." 

"What's your last name?" 

"James, David James."  He looked quite thoughtful for a few more minutes. 

"Politician?" 

"No Elliott, I'm a model." I answered, saving him from further guesses. 

"A model?" 

"Yes, men's fashion…magazines, billboards, catwalk…even a music video pretty soon." 

"So…you…wear fancy clothes…and get your picture taken and such?" 

"Yes, that's pretty much it," I replied. 

"And you get paid to do this?" 

"Yeah, quite a bit actually." 

"Hmm…that's interesting.  The only models I've ever met were in art school.  Life models." 

"You're an artist then?"  

"Mhm…sculptor." 

"You're the sculptor up on the top floor then?" 

"Mm." 

"So you're the eccentric guy I've heard about?" 

"Eccentric?" he repeated with a laugh. 

"That's the word on the street," I joked. 

"And what makes me eccentric?" 

"I really don't know, I guess they say you hole up in your studio and hardly anybody ever sees or hears from you." I looked down in embarrassment, realizing how stupid I just sounded.  "Nah, I'm sorry, it sounds pretty stupid, I think its just that hardly anybody knows you so they make stuff up." 

"Damn," he scoffed. 

"What?" 

"I...I just thought it would be for something more interesting...you know, like I bite the heads off of rats or walk around in nothing but my socks." 

"Sorry to disappoint you," I murmured with a grin. 

"It's okay...just makes me feel a little boring." 

"Maybe I could help you work on your image, it is after all, my forte." 

"Oh really?  Like, what would you suggest?" 

"Eh...maybe some new clothes to start..." 

"Hey...these are my most comfortable jeans!" He objected.  "Besides, you should see how I work, my pieces are usually pretty big and I'm climbing all over clay, working with all sorts of materials, sometimes its full body contact...you're actually seeing me on one of my cleaner days." 

Before I could reply the lights in the elevator suddenly turned on and we could feel the elevator come to life.  It started to ascend, stopping at the next floor which was Marcie's.  When the door opened a young man stood worriedly next to an elevator repairman.  He looked to be about 18 and also had blond hair, but a few shades darker than Elliott and quite a bit shorter.  "Elliott!" He called out.  "You're okay!" 

"Yes, Blake I'm fine.  What did you expect?  That I'd pass out from dehydration or die of boredom?"  Elliott stood up and the young man came rushing in, hugging him and giving him a once over. 

"David, this is my overprotective younger brother Blake.  Blake, this is David.  He's a model…and he, he saved my life!" Elliott said the last part dramatically in mock horror and his brother's face turned red in embarrassment before he turned to me. 

"David James, right?  Yeah, you're on the side of the bus I take to NYU...in your underwear," he chuckled and I saw Elliott's eyebrows go up and a small smile cross his face. 

"I guess it's just me that lives under a rock David," Elliott chided, "or under hundreds of pounds of clay I suppose." 

I laughed at the dry sense of humor I could already see in this unique man I'd just spent the good part of an hour with and he returned a smile that would put any model to shame and I felt myself drawn to him in a way I'd never experienced before.  I felt like I didn't want to just leave, but maybe ask him to have coffee sometime.  I hesitated, feeling stupidly nervous.   

I opened my mouth just to go for it, "umm…" suddenly my mind went completely blank and I felt like that fourteen year old fat kid trying to ask the pretty girl that sat in front of him to the 8th grade dance. 

"What David?" she angrily whispered as she turned to me after I tapped her on the shoulder.  The teacher had started speaking just as my pencil hit her shoulder.  She continued to glare at me as I gaped back at her, unable to speak.  "What!" she asked again impatiently. 

"Um…nothing, sorry," I mumbled and quickly looked down at my notebook, feeling my cheeks turn bright red. 

"Come on Elliott, let's get you upstairs and Mac can finish fixing the elevator," Blake suddenly announced and then turned to me, "Nice meeting you David."  He pulled his older brother out of the elevator and I found myself frowning at his pushy display. 

Before I could speak again, Marcie and Janice came bustling out to the hallway.  "David, finally!  Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I muttered, feeling annoyed. 

"See you around David," Elliott called back, halfway to the stairwell. 

"Yeah, see you around Elliott," I replied.  I watched as Marcie and Janice gave him the once over and then looked at me raising their eyebrows.  I followed them into the office. 

"Who was that?!" They asked in unison. 

"Elliott, the sculptor from upstairs," I answered with as much nonchalance as possible. 

"He is gorgeous!" Marcie gushed, "do you think he'd consider modelling?"  I just rolled my eyes. 

"Trying to replace me already?"  Marcie smirked and grabbed me by the arm. 

"Come on, Jenny's in my office."