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Perhaps the most fascinating thing to Connor about New York city was the sheer variety of people he saw every single day.
Moving to the city after living in the suburbs of Minnesota for most of his life was a culture shock in several different ways, but Connor had just never seen this many different kinds of people in one place. The city reminded him of a crayon box, one of those 96-packs he used to have as a kid that contained more shades of the rainbow than he'd ever imagined before.
Minnesota was the 8-pack, New York was the 96-pack.
He made a point to ride the subway to his photography gigs at the same time each morning, 8:35 a.m, to be precise. He liked having routine in his life, it was comforting to him. Especially in such a bustling area. Even on days when he didn't have work, or when he had work at a later time than usual, he would still navigate the subway system just on time so he could catch the 8:35 ride. He'd spend the extra time just exploring parts of the city, usually with his camera in tow.
At first he didn't have any motive for this exact time. It was just a random time he picked, he'd caught the subway at that time one morning and it just stuck.
Although eventually, he made sure to catch the subway at 8:35 on the dot every day because of a certain mystery boy.
Among the vast ocean of people Connor saw from day-to-day, he hardly ever remembered specific faces or spotted a certain person more than once. He'd see a particularly fascinating person, smile at them, and then never cross paths with them again. This boy, however, was on the same subway ride as Connor every single day without fail. He was tall and lanky, with chocolate-brown ringlets and snow-white skin. He had a cute button nose, a very prominent Adam's apple, and plump pink lips. The one feature of the boy's that Connor hadn't been able to make out yet was the color of his eyes. He was very curious about it, about which color of the crayon pack the boy's eyes matched closest to, and he was determined to find out.
So on one morning, Connor made it his mission to sit as close to the boy as possible. He left his apartment at 8:00, making his usual coffee stop before weaving through the busy sidewalks and heading to the terminal. After boarding the subway, his eyes darted around the seats before he spotted the mystery boy.
Connor had been noticing him on his daily rides for a while now, and at this point he knew most of the boy's outfits by heart. Today he was wearing his polka-dot Adidas sweatshirt, matched with a pair of blue jeans which cuffed at the ankles. His fingernails, which were painted a different color almost every week, were a hot-pink color today. On his feet were a pair of white shell toe Adidas sneakers. Connor had observed that the boy went for different looks on different days, and that he didn't really have one defined style. Some days, like today, he was dressed in sporty attire. Some days he wore more feminine clothes, all soft and flowy pastels. It was just one of the many things that, for some reason, captivated Connor about this unnamed boy.
Naturally, butterflies were flitting about in his stomach as he claimed the empty seat right next to the boy. He turned his head slightly, attempting to catch a glimpse of the boy's eyes. It was then that the boy's head perked up from its previous position of looking down at a phone, to make eye contact with Connor. Connor's heart thumped in his chest as the boy nodded and smiled at him before looking back down to switch songs on his phone, which was connected to the headphones in his ears.
It was only a quick glance, but for some reason it was enough to make Connor's insides go all warm and gooey. The mysterious boy's eyes were a light, light baby-blue...almost periwinkle. They were beautiful. Connor thought they were the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen.
Every day after that, Connor made sure to get a seat next to the boy with the blue eyes. They went on like that for about 2 weeks, just with Connor taking his seat, the boys smiling and nodding at each other, and then going about their own business.
Connor couldn't understand why he was so infatuated with him, but he needed to talk to him. His new mission was to have some type of conversation with this boy.
So, on the following Monday, he prepared to do just that on his way to work. He took his usual seat, nervously clutching his camera in trembling hands as he flashed his usual close-lipped smile at the boy. Today the boy was looking extra soft and adorable, wearing a pink sweater and white jeans that almost looked like leggings, they were so tight.
Of course, Connor's anxiety decided to kick in unwelcomed like it always did at moments like these. His brain thought of a thousand different scenarios that could make this go completely wrong, and every time he tried to open his mouth to speak his heart would thump ferociously until he had to close his mouth again.
Disappointment clouded over him as he noticed they were almost at the stop that the boy got off on, and Connor sighed to himself in defeat. He guessed that it just wouldn't happen today, or any day that his anxiety got the best of him.
That is, until the boy with the periwinkle eyes spoke up himself.
"I'm Troye."
Connor's head shot up to make eye contact, his heart racing as a mess of words jumbled around in his brain. Say something back, idiot, he thought to himself as he hopelessly stuttered. "Oh, h-hi."
Connor mentally smacked himself in the face for that one.
Troye's smile was warm and inviting, nonjudgemental as he chuckled a bit at the other boy. "I just thought we should at least be on a first-name basis if we're going to see each other every day."
Connor was completely wonderstruck at Troye's voice. If he wasn't sure before, he was pretty damn sure by now that he had a crush. The boy's voice was deeper than Connor expected, a little raspy and holding a thick accent, probably Australian. It was adorable and sexy at the same time.
"Oh, y-yeah. You're right. I'm Connor," he replied, smiling and sticking out his hand in an offer to shake Troye's. He was pretty sure by the way he felt his cheeks burning that he was blushing, face splotchy with shades of crimson.
"Connah. Nice to meet you, beautiful," Troye replied smoothly as he accepted Connor's handshake.
By now, Connor was feeling like he was about to vomit all over the subway floor--in a good way, he thought. He was overwhelmed by so many things that just happened; the way Troye's accent made Connor's name sound as it spiraled off his tongue, the chilled feeling of cold, skinny fingers touching his own, and the fact that Troye just called him beautiful. Connor was sure he must be dreaming. No such angel of a boy would ever even be remotely interested in him, let alone have the desire to call him beautiful.
Troye didn't let go of Connor's hand, resting their clasped hands between their thighs instead. "Photographer, I'm guessing?" Troye inquired as he gestured to the camera in Connor's lap.
"Yeah, it's...it's not much, really. I mostly just take whatever gigs I can get, and there's so many more opportunities here than where I used to live," Connor spoke a bit hurriedly due to his nerves.
"I'm sure you're good at it," Troye encouraged, "I've seen you around before, taking pictures. You seem like you have a passion, that's pretty cool."
Connor grinned bashfully. "Wow, thank you, that's really sweet of you. What do you do?"
Troye blushed and moved his eyes down to his lap. It was his turn to be shy. "I'm a musician, actually."
Connor's eyes lit up at the mention of music. "No way! That's awesome, what kind of music?"
"Erm, it's pop. I've actually been doing a lot of writing with my label, which is why I'm in the states and not back in Australia."
"Where can I listen to your music?" Connor itched to hear this gorgeous boy sing. He absolutely loved finding new music, and this was by far the coolest scenario of finding some that he's ever experienced.
Troye flashed an adorably toothy grin, only his two front teeth peeking out from behind his lips. "Have you got Spotify? It's under Troye Sivan on there."
Connor nodded, promising Troye he'd look him up as soon as he got home that night. Troye was regretful about having to get off the subway, he was really enjoying getting to know this pretty, darling boy.
"I'll see you tomorrow, usual spot?" he winked at Connor. Troye released their hands, both of them blushing a bit at realizing they had been intertwined for the entirety of the conversation.
Connor nodded. "See you then, Troye."
Things between them went superbly for the rest of the week. They chatted every morning, Connor gushing over Troye's music. They discussed some of their other favorite artists as well, practically fangirling with each other as they realized they were both huge fans of Oh Wonder, the 1975, and LANY. Connor had also shown Troye some of his photography, Troye being stunned by the green-eyed boy's talent with a camera. They'd exchanged numbers, too, often texting each other for late-night chats about music and celebrity crushes (they had both fawned over Matty Healy for almost an hour one night).
Connor was delighted over how quickly the two clicked with each other, especially considering that he'd previously had exactly 0 friends in this city. However, he couldn't deny nor ignore the butterflies that he felt practically every time his eyes locked with Troye's. Or the way Troye's music made him feel. Connor listened to him on repeat every night before bed, feeling a sense of home as he fell asleep to the Australian's vocals swimming pleasantly into his ears.
It was one Thursday morning that everything came together. As their routine went, Connor took his usual seat and they conversed until the subway was nearly at Troye's destination.
"And I honestly don't know where I'd be without her music. Definitely not writing my own, that's for sure. She's my biggest inspiration." They had been discussing their mutual love for Amy Winehouse that morning, Troye's eyes glowing as he rambled about her.
Connor's smile was glowing, too. "God, I love her."
They were silent for a moment, drinking each other in. Connor wished he could take a picture of Troye right now, his brown curls wild and tousled from the wind, lips chapped as a result of the biting cold, his eyes still lit up with passion. However, the desire to do something else took over him. He decided to just go for it, because he was sick of his anxiety holding him back and he really, really wanted to do this.
So, he leaned forward, fluttering his eyelids shut as he connected his lips with Troye's. Troye was a bit taken aback, eyes widening at first before relaxing and shutting. Troye moved a hand up to cradle Connor's cheek, Connor's own hand moving to Troye's waist as their lips danced against each other. Troye's lips were delicate and soft despite being chapped, and Connor felt like he might just explode.
They pulled apart, breaths mixing a bit before they connected stares with each other. Connor was timid at first, afraid that Troye would be horrified and run away or something, but relief flooded over him as Troye giggled.
Connor's face was flushed as he broke the silence. "Well, that was nice..."
Troye laughed in agreement as he began to rise from his seat. "Here's my stop. I'll see you tomorrow, beautiful."
Troye placed a brief peck on Connor's thin lips before departing from the subway, disappearing behind the sliding doors. He took one last glance at Connor before the doors shut completely, giving him that signature wink.
Connor was pretty sure that nothing had ever felt so right in his life.