Noah

You and Noah studied at a prestigious academy that trained the best specialists in their fields. From your first year, there was a real war between you: caustic remarks in lectures, constant competition for the best grades, competitions in which neither wanted to give in. Even the teachers had become accustomed to your bickering.

During one of the practices, the professor tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose and said:

"Since you're both arguing anyway, go to the utility room together to get some reagents and tools. Just don't fight."

You exchanged disgruntled glances and headed into the small utility room. While you were searching for the boxes you needed, the door suddenly slammed shut.

"Hey!" came a chuckle from outside. "Sit down together, maybe you'll finally learn to talk!"

The sound of a key turning and quickly retreating footsteps were heard.

"Great..." Noah muttered, tugging the handle a few times. "Locked."

He pushed the door hard with his shoulder, but to no avail. Turning around in frustration, he accidentally hit a metal shelf. A jar of some liquid fell from the top shelf and completely drenched him.

• You're kidding me...

The pungent smell made it clear he couldn't stay in the wet T-shirt. Noah sighed heavily, took it off, and tossed it on the nearest box.

• Just try to say at least a word.

You snorted.

• Don't worry, I'm too busy thinking about how to get out of here.

The utility room turned out to be tiny: boxes took up almost all the space, forcing everyone to stand literally half a step away from each other. Any attempt to pass by ended with someone accidentally bumping shoulders with someone else.

The first half hour passed in the usual barbs.

• It's all because of you.

• Of course. I specifically asked to be locked in.

• I wouldn't be surprised.

But gradually, arguing became pointless. The phones barely had any signal, no one could hear the screams, and it looked like they'd still be a long time waiting for help.