Bus Station Gardenias

Chapter 1

A man sits on the bus, near the exit, holding a small bouquet of Gardenias. The Gardenias were for a special occasion but had to be put aside for the cancellation of the occasion.

He held the Gardenias tightly to his right hand as he let the rain droplets flutter through the glass of the bus.

It was a tiring night, full of rushing around his apartment to find the things that he needed to visit them. He forgot about the plans and only realized when he was ten minutes late.

Before he began boarding a taxi to go to their designated location, he bought the Gardenias on a whim while trying to find a decent gift.

They hadn't met in over a year and giving a gift to his friends would've been the right thing to do, before the rain started pouring through.

Defeated before even coming to the place, he boarded a random bus, hoping it led to his house. He moved his head close to the glass as he darted his eyes through any familiar place that he knew of. None were recognized except a bus station where he used to go to a friend's place.

Spotting a man with a refined suit and damped hair that touched lightly to his shoulders, he noticed the man checking his watch silently nervous. He pulled the bus to a stop, squeezed the stop button next to the bus and came out, rushing to take shelter in the pouring rain.

He sits next to the man who he realizes is in the same company as him. A colleague of his that rarely talked with him besides greeting each other in the elevator working late, or when passing each other through empty hallways. They never had time to chat, besides now.

Dream was far from his own home, and with such foolishness on trying to be selfless, he was consequenced on being thirty minutes away from his home. He had nothing better to do but pull up some courage and make small talk to the man who was checking his watch every couple of minutes and cleaning up his suit over and over.

" Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're George, right? We're colleagues in the same company. " He said, holding onto his breaths, nervously as he courageously blurted it.

He remembered the name because they had to work on a small project with each other on which they just furiously shouted at them and their co-workers because of setbacks and ignorance to each other. His name was on a piece of the report that they had to hand in and George accidentally screwed up the report by using all of the notes in different colors that were labeled incorrectly.

He apologized, but Dream couldn't forget the face as George desperately begged the manager of the project to excuse the mess up.

He didn't remember much or the rest of George since they had only talked—or better yet, yelled at each other once. But one thing was certain based on some business gossip that George was slightly cold.

He wore a suit, navy blue, patriotic to Britain's dark blue flag that shone through his accent. It was cinnamon red velvet, a flavor that Dream hadn't tasted but started craving whenever he heard George's voice.

George, with a suit so refined and with a tie that had been neatly adjusted time and time again, was similar to a lily. With socks that glowed angelic white, even though the rain had made the streets muddy. His shoes were crystal clean of a syrup brown.

" Even looking at his socks made me want to cry inside. Hahaa.. " Dream thought, looking at his messy laces that he had to quickly tie so that his shoelaces wouldn't dampen on the ground before he got off the bus.

George dismissively ignores him but turns back to him to check on what he just said.

" You're Dream if I can recall.. " George said, muttering through his breath. Silent but loud enough for Dream to hear.