An older woman

The doors part and a woman in her 50s or 60s stands there waiting. She's got gray hair in a tight bun, wearing a dark blue blazer and dress pants. She's very attractive for a woman her age you notice, having only a few shallow crow's feet to indicate her age, and clear blue eyes without any bags or circles beneath them. The kind of skin you get from a life of privilege and means. Behind her stands a young man with a tablet and stylus, taking notes as the woman instructs him. Neither are looking at the elevator as it arrives.

"They're bullshitting", says the woman, "they're not in a position to follow through, so they're stalling for time. Call Mistrello and tell him to put together a proposal, we're giving him a chance at the bid. Drop the bullshitters, I have no patience for excuses"

The man scratches away with his stylus as she speaks. Viveca chooses that moment to gasp loudly for air and try to pull herself up by the railing. A line of drool runs from her chin.

Both the people outside turn around at the sound and stare at Viv. They make no move to help.

"What the fuck is this?", says the woman. "Don't we have security in this place? Who let the junkie in here?"

"I believe that this is Ms Viveca Holdenbuch ma'am", says the man, "Head of Extruder Liaisons. She's the main presenter of your next meeting"

"This?", the woman says with a mix of contempt and disinterest. Turning to Viv, she says "Young lady, I don't know and I don't care what you've been taking, but you'd better get your shit together in the next 4 minutes if you want a future here, I don't like having my time wasted."

With that, she steps into the elevator along with her assistant, who presses the >< button and takes up his position with the stylus again. She continues to dictate as Viv stands up on shaky legs and tries to gasp as quietly as she can. "Right, the union is on our ass again. They always want something. See if there's someone on their board we can make happy. If not, see if there's someone we can make unhappy"

Viv tries to fix her hair in the mirror and wipe some of the worst makeup disaster away with a napkin she fished out of her blouse, all while trying and failing not to make any sound when regaining her breath. You are really quite impressed by her dedication.

A few seconds of not-so-quiet gasping pass before the older woman sighs loudly and says "For christ's sake. Benton, just give her something". The man puts the tablet and stylus away in a shoulder bag and withdraws a tiny leather case. Viv stares wide-eyed, napkin half-raised to her face, as he approaches her, then grabs her chin. He angles her head left and right, looking into each eye, then back to look up her nose. He lets go of her to open the case, exposing a collection of small syringes, inhalers, pill cases and bottles. He picks out a plastic cylinder, puts the case back into the bag, unscrews the lid, sticks the opening into her left nostril before she has time to react and says "Sniff".

Viv, too shocked to protest, puts a finger on her right nostril and inhales deeply. Looks like she's done this before. Benton withdraws the cylinder, puts the cap back on and drops it into his bag. Viv's eyes have gone even wider than before. Her pupils dilate, her breathing gets steadier and deeper and she stands straighter. You see a slight jitter to her hands and feet, like she has trouble standing still. She looks at Benton and the older woman.

"Th- th- thaa-ank you" she gets out, her voice slightly hoarse.

"I suggest you stop making noises until you have something I want to hear", the woman says, annoyance lacing every word. "You'd better have some great fucking news".

The elevator dings again. They've reached the final floor.