Steel Future

Cherise sat slouched forwards on a bench at the train station, her elbows on her knees and her hands reaching upwards to cup her chin. Her hazel eyes darted back and forth around her as she silently observed people go on their daily lives.

The young woman absolutely adored watching people in her spare time, especially at the train station.

And especially when her home wasn't exactly home at the time.

As usual, the ever punctual, bald, pudgy man in the brown trench coat walked in front of her past the closed platform, yelling and arguing with his wife about some nick-nack or another.

The tall, graceful brunette strutted past him, a ballet bag hanging from her shoulders and a pair of point slippers shyly peeking out.

Yet, as she caught her dishevelled reflection with blond locks flying everywhere, on the black, opaque glass blocking off the closed platform, she saw a tall man hurrying behind the small gap where the station didn't get enough glass to completely close the platform.

What intrigued Cherise the most wasn't the man sneakily looking around to see if someone was watching; missing her of course, but the fact that every time she blinked, the mysterious man looked different.

His clothes, hair and style seemed to never solidify, not physically nor in her mind, causing her to become perplexed as she could not remember the images seconds later when she attempted to recall them.

She was completely absorbed in her curiosity; something that always stayed just beneath the folds of her nature, just waiting to come out.

So, it was only natural for Cherise to follow him. And she did.

How Cherise wished she didn't follow him in that chilly evening in London, inside one of the most beautiful stations she thought she would ever see.

However, ever Cherise would agree, that if she hadn't, her life would be much, much different from now.