SilverHoops

Part 1

I checked my phone- 9:49. Shit, I really need to run, this is the second train- I'm not going to miss. I sprinted beneath the arched building entrance to the front of the train station, beeped my card and descended to the platforms- bag bumping around making it difficult. Panting, I had arrived at the platform with five minutes to spare. Lucky for me the station was empty- the after-work rush had passed. I quickly checked the schedule to see if my train arrived- not yet, it read 9:52- three minutes. I looked around and found a small lit corner to sit in.

The whole area was vandalised, almost everything was covered in some sort of spray paint or symbol. It was my usual platform, platform 7- I really hope my train will be able to pick me up and get me home before my roommate left the house for the night.

The screeching of the train drew me back to reality as it pulled up to the station. I hopped up, grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder and hastily made my way onto the train before the door closed. I was always paranoid it would shut before I got on, but it never did. It seemed like I was the only one boarding but before my second foot had even stepped onto the carriage, someone barged past me. Where did they come from? I scowled as I watched them sprint to a window seat, back turned towards me, acting like a small child.

I decided to stay standing, clutching a handle hanging from the ceiling above, so I could get a good view of the mysterious figure. Something about them doesn't feel right. No one ever gets on this train other than me.

My attempts at subtle observation did not succeed for my legs were getting tired from standing, since I had stood all afternoon and ten minutes of standing had become too much for them, so I chose to sit in rough fabric-lined seat by the door. Still checking up on the weird person seated a few rows away. But, you know what they say- humans are naturally curious, so it can't be that bad that I want to know who the person.

All of a sudden the train heaved, stopping at another station, sending my bag skidding to the other end of the carriage- damn it, now I gotta get up. I squeezed down the rows of seats, past the person- he looked like the boy who caught same bus I did today- to retrieve my bag from the other end of the damaged train carriage. He calmly watched my attempt to pick up my bag and to head back to my seat, but unfortunately the train had already begun to move so I staggered to seat not too far from where he sat.

Our eyes made contact and I froze. Goodness, he's gorgeous. Panicking, I quickly looked back down at my phone and continued to scroll. Glancing up, I saw that he had returned to looking out the window, observing the luminescent view of the city at night, he seemed quite reserved and relaxed, his motionless eyes watching, a beautiful deep honey brown in colour when caught by the light. His dark hazelnut hair was styled in wavy curls-cut just above his eyebrows- parted just right and bobbing with the movement of the train on the tracks. His skin was as if it were pale porcelain, soft as silk. It looked as if he wore a stylists selection of garments; a beautiful black turtle neck, a black and dark grey office trench coat, multiple silver necklaces and black jeans accompanied by a pair of black leather boots with strange silver hoops handing from the tongues.

Classy. The light above his section of seats was broken, so every time a bright light would pass the window of the train, it would splash onto his cheek in an array of colours, reflected by an elaborate silver earring dangling off of his left ear. He rested his head on the palm of his hand, gazing into the distance. You could say he was a person that would strike one as on the verge of ethereal.
His eyes flickered in my direction for such a small moment, so small that it was almost as if he had never looked at all, but his tell-tale smirk on his perfectly shaped pink lips showed that I had been caught staring. Cheeks burning, I quickly turned away to hide my face. Damn it, now I'm the rude weirdo. I decided to do some work on the long ride home, taking out my earphones, textbook and note pad I began to write some notes to study.

Everything was going smoothly until the speakers announced the train was pulling up to another station, and the carriage lurched dramatically causing my precariously balanced textbook to fall off my bag and rip my earphones out of my phone and ears. Suddenly, Aram Khachaturian's Masquerade Suite Waltz came blasting out of my phone for everyone on the train to hear, and when I mean everyone I mean the weird guy, who was startled by the outburst of classical music- he seemed amused. In a frenzied attempt to stop the music, I quickly lunged for my phone, I hit my head on the seat in front of me. Damn that hurts. Rubbing my forehead and grabbing my phone and in an attempt to redeem my dignity, I turned down the volume as fast as possible and started packing away my notes and bent down to grab my fallen textbook.

As I was down on the floor reaching under the seat opposite me to reach a stray pencil, a jewellery adorned hand appeared, picking it up before I could. Still crouching behind the chair I looked up at the man standing beside me.