As Jack jogged quickly down the stairs from the office on the 4th to the lobby, his black/silver striped suit coat billowed out behind him. When he jumped the final three steps his tie, what he called his corporate noose, flew over his shoulder. He barely took the time to straighten it back down to his chest as he stepped through the fire door. It was past five and Jack had already untucked his dress shirt from the matching slacks.

He only glanced to the left as the elevator doors opened, smiling with subtle satisfaction that he beat the lift down once more. The 24 year old student-worker was still playfull even after nearly two years at URM. He fit in comfortably with this enviroment, though often around a bar table joked with his friends as he spoke of political revolution and social reform.

5'11" with thick locks of dark hair and intense blue eyes shielded behind the small ovals of his prescription glasses, Jack Miller didn't think himself much different from anyone else. So it was that he walked among the two dozen or so other proffessionals without realizing he stands out as a handsome young rebel in a room of posers, players and pricks.

Slowing down he made his way through the crowd in the lobby and pulled the tie loose around his neck. His left hand held clutched the attache case and he pushed the glass door with his shoulder, sighing softly as he noticed the heavy spring rain.

On another day he might have found it charming, but without an umbrella and not wanting to take a cab for three blocks of walk he could plan on getting wet. It wasn't until he felt a warm body pressing gently against him from behind, accompanied by the soft touch of a hand on his shoulder that Jack awoke from his personal delema and realized he had been blocking the door for anyone else.

With an automatic "Excuse me." he stepped aside and held the door open. Turning back he felt the warmth of attraction move up his spine as he looked at the woman that was now stepping through behind him.

They stood together listening to the rain poor against the metel marquee above their heads and his eyes roamed her faintly familure face. "Doorways are so transient in modern day life, I like to take time and reflect before making the critical decision 'in or out'" the words rolled from his tongue and he smiled with red cheeks.

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The power to change the course of reality is a gift stolen from the hands of time and fate not by the apathetic nor idealistic dreamers but by those who feel the pull of ambition and head the call with dedication.