Chapter Text
He catches his first glance of the boy on the northbound train on the morning commute to school.
Running late as usual, Kel lengthens his strides to make up for the time just a few more minutes of sleep caused him to lose. The station he hops on the subway from consists of three floors and tedious trek down two steep escalators.
Kel makes it to the gate, fumbling with his back pocket to find his wallet. He manages to pull out his wallet, almost dropping it past the fare gate before ripping his commuter’s pass out of its snug slot and tapping it onto the card reader. He should really ask Aubrey where she bought her hard plastic card holder with a lanyard that she’s decorated with several enamel pins and buttons that she has collected over the years. It would really shave off a few seconds if he could just wear it around his neck in a fashionable, yet sensible style.
With a beep, the gates fling open and he continues his morning jog; the perfect warmup to basketball practice. He practically throws himself down the escalators and at the end, makes a courageous leap to skip the last five steps of the escalator.
Now, all he has to do is wait on the platform. Just a tad further behind the yellow line to calm the intrusive thought of someone coming up behind him and pushing him into an oncoming subway train.
Breathing heavy, Kel rocks back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, flicking his wrist towards himself to check the time on his watch. 6:53AM. He has thirty-seven minutes to get to basketball practice…
And forty-five minutes left of his commute to go.
Well, isn’t that fantastic.
This is the agonizing part about being late. No matter how many minutes or seconds Kel manages to shave off by sprinting down, nothing could stop the amount of time he wastes waiting for the next train to come. It’s the most unreliable thing in his life, and that’s coming from one of the most unreliable people in the world. It’s no wonder why people say the TTC stands for “Take The Car”.
Too bad he doesn’t have a car.
Or a driver’s license.
Yet.
Though he doubts his parents would let him take the car for fear that he would not return it in one piece.
Or any piece at all.
He clicks around on his phone for a bit, deciding to switch up the song he is listening to match his mood change. He changes the fast paced to something softer, more soothing to fit the morning melancholy.
He waits and waits, until he sees the dim light of the subway train make its way through the tunnel, coming to a stop beside the platform. The doors open and he steps in. It seems like today’s commute is particularly busy. He scans the train cart left and right, and finds not a single seat open in the cart he’s in.
A warning from an automated woman repeats over the train speakers that “the doors are now closing” and Kel is pulled by momentum as the train begins to move.
He decides to walk in the direction the train is traveling as it chugs its way along the line, making its routinely stop from station to station. He finally finds an empty seat and sits down, sighing in relief as he finally frees himself from the weight of his backpack and gym bag. He sets them on the floor between his feet.
Instead of a song switch, he switches to the commuting playlist Hero made that he downloaded ages ago. Hero has great taste in music, a majority of the songs being something that Kel can vibe with.
On his commutes and because a majority of his ride is underground where cell service is limited, Kel people gazes. He likes watching people enter and exit the cart. To notice what they’re wearing or reading, or the little tendencies such as the rhythmic tapping their fingers against their thighs or bobbing their head alongside their music they have when they too are sitting on the subway for an undisclosed amount of time with no cell service.
The train stops at another stop, opening for people to filter in and out of its doors, and that’s when he sees him.
Black hair, black eyes. A fringe of hair that swoops left to right and mostly covers his forehead. Porcelain pale skin. Soft, rounded facial features. He wears a white collared shirt complemented by a blue vest and beige shorts. He carries a violin case in one hand, the letters “S U N N Y” engraved in its fabric with gold thread which Kel assumes is his name. Around one of his shoulders, the strap of a black satchel.
Kel’s eyes widen. He thinks he’s just seen the most beautiful person on the entire train today. No, the most beautiful person in existence.
“Sunny” appears to be around Kel’s age, entering the cart with someone that looks very similar to him just a few steps behind. Kel’s eyes wonder to them as they both take a seat just a little ways down from him.
There’s something about the way he sits down as refined as he possibly can that intrigues Kel.
There’s nothing objectively special about him, yet Kel feels drawn to him, like fate is tugging on the red thread invisibly connecting the two of them together. The black haired boy reaches into his bag and procures a beautiful black leather-bound book that Kel can’t quite make heads or tails of its pretentious curvy font for a title. He cracks it open to a page and begins reading, his eyes following the rows upon rows of text.
He falls at first sight.
His face flushes from the thought of falling for a beautiful stranger on the morning train and wraps himself up in a sweet daydream. He readjusts in his seat, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering around and around looking for an escape. If they were to ever talk, how would his first encounter with him go?
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Maybe in some stroke of luck, one day, the only empty subway seat in the entire train will be right beside him. He’ll sit beside him, and when he pulls out that same, leather-bound black book again with the fancy writing Kel can’t quite make out, he can make small talk about it. Ask him what it’s about, and maybe, just maybe, like the first signs of spring, the snow would melt and conversation would begin.
There would be no lull in their conversation, it would sweep him up with full force. Kel would focus and listen with an attentive ear, the words he wants to reply with already bubbling up inside of him. He would have to restrict himself from cutting the boy off. Not because he was an asshole, but simply because the overwhelming desire to eagerly chat with him would take control of all of his thoughts and dictate the strength of his impulse control.
Maybe a pleasant and comfortable atmosphere would wash over them and it would feel like they were the only two people in the world within that moment. Maybe they would get so wrapped up in conversation that they miss their respective stops. Maybe they would click and it would feel as if they have known each other for years prior. Maybe, just maybe, all of this would happen in real life instead of through fragments of imagination in Kel’s mind.
He steals a quick glance at the boy again once he snaps out of his reverie. “Sunny” is still quietly reading his book, but instead of both feet planted on the ground like before, he has one leg crossed over another. He turns the page.
Then, the tin, automated voice of a woman flatly announces the next station stop and “Sunny” closes his book, slides it back into his satchel, fastens the front clips, and stands with the strap perfectly situated on his shoulder.
Kel starts to panic. This may be the only time he ever sees him. Should he do something? Should he follow the whim of his feelings and talk to him? Should he try to nudge fate the direction he wants it to go and make his delusions a reality? Or is it too soon?
The train slowly comes to a stop and the pair are already standing near the doors across from Kel’s seat, their backs to him. Even if he can’t have a conversation with the boy, he at least wants to plant the seed in his mind that he exists. And if he sees him again, maybe next time it’ll grow into something more.
Bing. The doors slide open. “Sunny” takes a step and Kel decides to say something. Did he plan what he was going to say? Absolutely not. Not while he doesn’t know whether or not he’ll see “Sunny” again. He’s always been more of the “talk first, think later” type of guy.
His heart thuds in his ears, all the blood rushing to his face. “Hey, uhm!” Kel calls, half standing out of his seat. But it’s too late.
“Sunny” turns, but the doors slide shut and once again, Kel is jostled by the movement of the train starting its route along the tracks.
He slumps in his seat dejectedly, feeling as if he were rejected. He stares at the doors that “Sunny” just exited from and sighs as he watches small dots of light flicker through the door’s window.
Maybe fate will permit Kel to see him again one day in the future. Maybe one day, he can hold a real conversation with him. But for now, he’ll have to remain a beautiful stranger until Kel sees him again.