Chance Encounter

Brian quickly brushed his teeth and threw on his clothes. He glanced over at the clock. Damn. It was after 8:00. He was going to be late. Brian was NEVER late. He hadn't slept well the night before, and he just wasn't feeling very perky today. And Brian was ALWAYS perky. Funny old Brian. That's how everybody thought of him. Little did they know that he was hiding behind the jokes. He had tried to call Leigh the night before, but there was no answer. Again. Third night in a row. She wasn't even home when he called at 3am. He knew where she was, but he didn't want to think about it.

Brian grabbed his room key and ran out the door to the elevator. When it arrived, he noticed a girl with a suitcase already standing against the back wall. She didn't seem to notice him, as she was looking through her purse for something. Brian didn't pay too much attention to her either. He was late. And pissed. And having a really, really bad trip. The elevator doors closed, and they began to move down. Suddenly, the lights got dim, and the elevator slowed down. Brian and the girl both looked up at the ceiling, then the lights went out completely and the elevator came to a grinding halt.

"Oh shit," the girl muttered.

"It's ok," Brian said. "Probably just a little power blink. It'll be back on in a second."

They stood in the quiet darkness for a few moments. When the power didn't come back on, Brian began to whistle the tune from Jeopardy. The girl laughed a little.

"You know, if I wasn't running so late, this might be humorous," she said.

"I know what you mean. I'm running late, too," Brian said, sighing. Damn. Now he was really running late.

"Yeah, well, I have to catch a plane in an hour," she replied.

"Oh, that does suck."

They were silent for a few more minutes. Brian felt around the metal panel and opened the door for the phone. There was no dial tone. No nothing. Brian let out a groan.

"Nothing?" the girl asked.

"Nope."

"Do you think they know we're in here?"

"Don't know. I sure hope so."

"HEY! HELP!!" the girl yelled.

"I don't think that's gonna make the power come back on," Brian said, laughing.

"Well, maybe they can get us out of here anyway."

"I don't know about you, but I sure don't wanna climb up on top of an elevator that's suspended about 30 floors up. Me and heights just don't mix," said Brian.

"Well, you don't know how hard I'm having to fight my claustrophobia right now, buddy. It's taking all my strength to keep from clawing my way out of this damned box."

Brian laughed. A real laugh. It had been awhile since he had one of those.

"I think I'm gonna sit down," he suggested, sliding down the wall onto his butt.

"Ok. Good idea."

"So, what's your name?" he asked, trying to take her mind off her claustrophobia. The last thing he needed was some chick going psycho on him in an elevator.

"Samantha," she replied. "What's yours?"

"Brian."

"Nice to meet you, Brian."

"You too. Wish it was under better circumstances."

"I agree."

They were quiet again for a few minutes.

"So... what do you do?" Samantha asked, trying to make conversation.

"Oh, all kinds of stuff. I sing. I dance. Mostly sing."

"That's cool. I wish I could sing."

"Anybody can sing," Brian said, laughing.

"Uh-uh. Not me. I don't sing. And the world is a more beautiful place because of it," Samantha said.

Brian laughed out loud. "Come on, now. You have to sing sometimes. Like in the car?"

"Well, yeah. In the car. But nobody can hear me."

"So what do you do?" Brian asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

"I'm an attorney."

"Whoa! Ambulance chaser?"

Samantha laughed. "Nooo. I don't do personal injury. I handle criminal defense cases."

"You any good?"

"Yes I am."

Brian laughed again. "You're pretty confident, aren't you?"

"I prefer to use the term 'cocky' myself," Samantha said.

"Well, you're not shy, are you?"

"I can't afford to be shy," she said, laughing.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"I work in Atlanta, but I live in a place called Norcross, Georgia. How about you?"

"That's a weird coincidence. I live in Atlanta," he replied.

"That is strange. What brings you to Los Angeles?"

"Oh, just have some business to take care. Interview."

"Oh, ok. New job or something?" Samantha said, digging in her purse for something.

"Nah. Just an interview. Well, a couple of the, actually."

"Gum?" she asked.

"Sure," he responded. He felt around in the dark for her hand. When he found it, their fingers brushed. Brian felt a surge of something in his body. Damn. What was wrong with him? He couldn't even see the girl, and he was feeling this kind of thing. He needed to get laid. Bad. He took the gum from her hand and unwrapped it.

As they sat quietly in the dark, it began to get warm in the elevator. Time passed. It felt like they had been stuck in the metal box for days.

"Ok, this is getting really uncomfortable," Samantha said. "How long have we been in this stupid thing?"

Brian glanced at his watch. Thank God it had fluorescent numbers on the face. "Um, about an hour."

"Shit. I missed my flight," she said, letting out a prolonged breath.

"Sorry. I'm leaving out tonight myself. I hope we're out of here by then."

"Me too."

"So," Brian said, "Are you married?"

"Not any more," Samantha answered, laughing. "Thank God."

"What? Was he a jerk?"

"You could say that. I'm much happier without him."

"Know any good divorce lawyers in Atlanta?" Brian asked quietly.

"Why? You ready to divorce somebody?"

"Maybe."
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Another hour passed. Then another. Then another. By that time, it was stifling hot in the elevator. Samantha fanned herself with her plane ticket as Brian talked. He was becoming more and more comfortable with her as time went on. There was something about being in the dark that made him open up. He needed to talk to somebody, and it was so rare that he could ever be anonymous. He could talk to her, because she had no idea that he was a Backstreet Boy. Her attention wasn't drawn to the fact that he was "famous". She was really listening to him, and giving him honest feedback, not just telling him what he wanted to hear.

"It took me a long time to realize it, but she only married me for my money," he said quietly.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. I love her, but..."

"But what? She's cheated on you. She's lied to you. She married you for money. Wake up, Brian. But hell, who am I to give advice. Do what you want. I know what I'd do, though."

Brian was quiet for a minute. "You're right. I know what I need to do. It's just... never mind. I can't explain it."

"Ok, I won't force the issue. But I really am sorry you're going through this. You seem like a really sweet guy. She's a fool. If I had a guy like you, I'd... never mind."

"No, go ahead," he said, smiling. "If you had a guy like me, you'd what? This is making me feel better."

Samantha laughed. "If I had a guy who worshipped me like you did her, I'd get on my knees and thank God every day. And I'd appreciate you. I've seen the worst in men. I know what the really bad ones are capable of. You're a prize, Brian. You deserve to be treated that way."

"Thanks," he said. "You're sweet."

"No, I'm truthful. I'm also getting more and more claustrophobic as this fucking box gets hotter and hotter. HELP!!! GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" she yelled.

"Calm down," Brian said, putting his hand on her leg and patting her gently. "I know it's hot, but it's not like we're going to die."

"I know. I just... damn it. I just hate being in the dark when it's hot. It just makes me feel like I can't breathe."

"Samantha, calm down," Brian said. She listened to his soft Southern drawl. It was comforting hearing his voice. She closed her eyes. Southern accents always reminded her of home. And that relaxed her a little.

"Come sit by me and talk," she said. "Tell me about what you were like as a kid."

Brian laughed and scooted over beside her. His leg was against hers, as was his shoulder. Funny enough, it was comforting for him to be in physical contact with somebody. As much as he hated to admit it, being in the dark like this was getting to him, too. "Well, I grew up in Kentucky. Me and my brother spent our summers at our grandparents' house. We had tons of cousins, and there were always a bunch of kids around. We'd go swimming and play football. I was always the little guy, so I got beat up a lot. We'd always go to church on Sundays and we'd hear my aunt and uncle sing in the choir. Then we'd go to my grandmother's for lunch. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Every Sunday. Without fail. And everybody was there. I sure miss those days sometimes. I don't get to see my family much anymore. Except for one of my cousins. We work together, so I see him all the time. Man, I was a goofy kid. I was the class clown, and I was always getting in trouble. Not bad trouble. I was just a little disruptive. I guess I still am, but not to the same extent."

As he went on, he started thinking. Leigh had never, in all the years they had been together, let him talk this long about himself. She had never asked him anything about his childhood, or what he was like growing up.

"Tell me about you," Brian said. "I've talked too much."

"You needed to talk," she said quietly. "I could tell."

"You're right. I did. Thanks for listening. You're a good listener. You seem like you really pay attention."

"That's part of my job. To listen. And to pick up on things."

"So... tell me about you," Brian repeated.

"Not much to tell. I grew up in Alabama. I have four sisters. Went to the University of Alabama. Pledged a sorority, like all good southern belles. Graduated. Went to law school and got my JD. Got married. Got divorced. That's about it."

"There are a lot of gaps in that story," he said, smiling.

"Like I said. Not much to tell," she said, wishing he would drop the subject.

"Ok, ok. I'll let it be," he said.

They were quiet for a minute. The silence was deafening. The air hung warm and stagnant, and Brian could feel the sweat beginning to run down his back. He wondered if... No, he had to stop thinking like that.

"When we get home, we'll have to have lunch sometime," Brian said, grasping her hand.

"Sure. Sounds good." She gave his hand a little squeeze. It felt so good to have somebody holding her hand. It had been so long. Even if this guy was a complete and total stranger.

Brian had no idea what she looked like. She was an attorney. Pretty assertive. Very intelligent. He imagined she was very business-like, with short hair and very little makeup. Lots of suits. Not very attractive. Oh well. She was really, really nice. He needed a new friend. He was getting tired of some of the old ones. He could almost feel them climbing up his back, using him as a ladder to get to where they wanted to be. Samantha wasn't like that. He could tell.

Suddenly, the lights came back on, and the elevator started to move. Brian and Samantha were both momentarily blinded by the bright light and they squinted.

"Thank God!" Samantha said, standing up.

"I'll second that," Brian said, as she gave him her hand and pulled him up. She reached down and picked up her purse, then stood to face him. The look of shock registered on her face as she recognized him immediately.

"Oh my God," she said, her eyes growing wide. "You're..."

Brian stared at Samantha. She wasn't at all what he expected. She was about his height. Very fit. Long, lean limbs. Long, dark curly hair with a few gold highlights. And the most luminous blue eyes he had ever seen. She was beautiful. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Brian Littrell."

"I can see that," she said, taking his hand and shaking it lightly. "Samantha Rose."

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. They walked across the lobby, and Brian saw Kevin and AJ waiting for him on one of the couches.

"Come here, Samantha. I want you to meet my cousin and my friend," Brian said, pulling her over to the couch. Kevin stood up and shook his head.

"You dumbass," he said, smiling. "You can't even ride an elevator by yourself without getting in trouble."

"Kev, this is my fellow castaway, Samantha," Brian said, smiling. Kevin's eyebrows went up as he looked at Samantha, then back at Brian.

"Nice to meet you, Samantha," Kevin said, shaking her hand like a gentleman.

"And this tattooed freak is AJ," Brian said, kicking AJ's feet off the coffee table. AJ nodded in her direction, but didn't speak.

"Rok, we've gotta go, man," AJ said. His voice was hoarse, like he was sick or something.

"I know, I know," Brian said, turning to Samantha. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you leave your stuff here and come with us. After I do this interview, we'll have some lunch. Then you can fly back with me tonight. Since we're going to the same place and all."

Samantha thought about it for a minute. "Well, ok. I didn't have anything else planned today anyway. I just need to make a few calls and make a few arrangements."

"Great," Brian said, smiling brightly. "You can use Kevin's cell phone."

They made their way out to a waiting limousine, which whisked them away to the Rolling Stone offices for their interview. When they got there, Samantha, AJ, Kevin, and Brian made their way inside. Brian made arrangements for Samantha to wait in someone's office so she could make her phone calls. When he left the room, she sat back and shook her head. Unbelievable. Un-freaking-believable.
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