On the twelfth floor, waiting to go down, was a man named Walter Pearson. He was twenty-two, and he thought he was chasing his dream. He had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps as a child, and so he decided to become a lawyer. Which led him to get a job as an assistant at a law firm (with a little help from his Dad.) After a year working at the firm he was still getting coffee, still writing letters and still pushed to the side whenever possible.

Walter Pearson wanted to have the people who abused him at work under his heel. He wanted to give orders and send people running to fill them. He wanted...

"Power," Lucy said, just as the doors opened. Walter looked at her, wondering how a homeless girl had managed to get into this type of building without security right on her tail. She smiled slightly, and he felt a bit unnerved.

"Sorry, did you say something?" he asked, suspicious.

"No." Lucy paused for a moment. "Are you going to get on the elevator?"

Walter stepped on, moved to the opposite corner and started staring intently at the buttons. Lucy stared at him.

"What floor are you on?" he asked, hoping it was close. The elevator started heading down, slower than usual, it seemed.

Lucy replied just as the elevator shuddered to a halt. "It doesn't really matter, Walter."

"What?"

"Look, I'm here on business. I'm here to offer you a deal on behalf of my employer," Lucy crossed her arms, and seemed to tower over Walter, even though he was a head taller than her.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong with the elevator? Are you some kind of crazy person?"