1:23 am

7.) Paulie

Paulie Baines boarded the Metro at 8:22 pm on a Tuesday night.

Paulie Baines was mortally wounded in a subway tunnel at 12:59 am on a Wednesday morning.

As the weapon shot through his stomach, Paulie saw his life literally, not even kidding, flash before his eyes. He thought people only did this in TV shows and shit, but no, it seriously happened.

Polly Baines had been a very good girl. She was an A-average student, goalie of the women's soccer team in high school, and voted the girl most likely to succeed in her graduating superlatives. And she was proud of all these things, and she liked most of these things, but there was one thing she didn't like.

The 'girl' part.

Polly had figured it out sometime during her junior year. She was definitely not, in any way, shape or form, supposed to be a girl. She didn't know why this was or what she was supposed to do about it, but being a girl was not working out for Polly Baines.

Skip forward two years, and Polly had come out to his parents and requested the spelling of his name be changed to Paulie to make it more masculine. His parents were startlingly accepting of his decision, but suggested he wait until he's sure his body isn't going to do any weird growing thing before he transitions anatomically. Paulie was very happy as a boy, and most of all as a son.

Enter Abhaya Mehta. Paulie, having been attracted to guys most of his life but not really thinking much about it, had no idea what to do about Abhaya Mehta. Or rather, the idea of Abhaya Mehta. At first, she was untouchable. She was a prim, beautiful, intelligent Indian girl his age, coming from a straight-as-a-line, traditional kind of family that no doubt wanted their only daughter to marry a rich Indian man and live happily ever after. But Abhaya wasn't having any of that.

Paulie and Abhaya met and that was the end of it. Paulie told Abhaya he was transgender and planning on fully transitioning in the future and Abhaya had no problem at all. But her parents did.

So that was how rowdy, hilarious, lovable Paulie Baines and lovely, caring, compassionate Abhaya Mehta ended up on the Metro at 8:22 pm on a Tuesday night. That was how Paulie Baines was mortally wounded at 12:59 am on a Wednesday morning, taking his last breaths in the arms of his only love, the brightest star in his sky, the angel whose wings were clipped for him so that they could be together, his lovely Abhaya Mehta. Her tears fell down her face as they landed on his, sobbing 'I love you, please don't die, Paulie please, PLEASE, I need you, my love, my darling, Paulie-"

And very soon, too soon, with his true love and these five amazing strangers surrounding him, weeping, Paulie Baines died at 1:01 am on a Wednesday morning.

Abhaya was quieted. She closed Paulie's eyes and laid his body down. The conductor, still towering over them, said, "You are free to go, passengers. We hope you enjoyed your ride on the Metro. We hope to see you again sometime!" And he was gone.

The six passengers figured they couldn't carry Paulie's body with them. It's best to leave him down here, the girl in the neon said. C'mon, we have to get out of here, NOW, the homeless boy said.

The six passengers walked down the tunnel to a ladder. One by one, they climbed it. Gwendolyn, then the Indian girl, then the girl in neon, then the girl with the peach-colored glasses, then the homeless boy, and finally the businessman. They entered into the back of a subway station and, without hesitation, darted up the stairs into the cool, windy morning.

It was 1 am, so there was no light other than the city. The woman in neon put on her skates and bid the other passengers adieu, saying she hoped to see them again, and gave a swift glance to the woman with the peach-colored glasses before skating away. The woman with the peach-colored glasses hid her face to stop them from seeing she was crying, said goodbye, and walked away up the street, the opposite way of where the neon-clad woman went. The homeless boy gave the businessman a big hug, then Gwendolyn, then the Indian girl. He darted off into the night, maybe to find a place to sleep, maybe to cause some mischief. The businessman apologized, but he had to get home, so he hugged the two young girls and walked towards the wealthy apartment buildings across the street.

Gwendolyn looked at Abhaya. Abhaya did not say goodbye, or even go anywhere. She lay across a nearby bench wordlessly, closing her puffy eyes and beginning to drift to sleep.

Gwendolyn Manners sat on the ground beside Abhaya Mehta at 1:19 am on a Wednesday morning. She rested her head near the Indian girl's, thinking about star-crossed lovers, homeless lads, Polo Ralph Lauren clothing, bright green roller skates, and a brown briefcase. At 1:23 am, Gwendolyn Manners fell asleep on the ground next to the bench Abhaya Mehta laid across, hoping in the morning she could find her brother and beg his forgiveness.