sTRAINgers

From Strangers

He had his jansport backpack strapped to his back and he was currently wishing he didn't have it on. It was almost weighing him down from running faster.

He could just feel the train approaching and he wasn't there yet. He went down the stairs quickly, jumping the last two steps and almost twisting his ankle.

He pants as he panics and tries to pull out his student metro card to pass into the subway. Because transportation isn't free. You have to pay. But in the midst of it, he drops his card and audibly lets out a small ugh!! as he goes to pick it up struggling.

He finally picks it up and he can just hear the train coming. He sees it pass by and stop, and it's so crowded. He finally scans his card hurriedly and runs through the crowd.

But it's Manhattan for fuck sakes, it's a tourist trap spot. There's kids holding onto their mother's hands in his way, and there's groups of young adults dressed like they're looking to get drunk and dance. There's people asking him for directions to Times Square and there's someone playing a guitar asking for change. There's everything but SPACE! And Dream is starting to feel like he can't breathe as he hears the voice of the train saying Doors Closing, Please stand clear of the walking way, and then in a blink of an eye, the crowd of people is gone.

And the train is gone.

It's all gone, only the man and his guitar left there. And he wants to yell at him to shut the fuck up, but that could be the next Jimi Hendrix.

So instead he pulls on his front hair and curses as he sits down on one of the benches.

It's empty now, and he's cold, and he didn't get to turn in his essays for his English class. And his roommate, George, is probably annoyed at him because he's been paying for dinner and tonight was Dream's turn to pay. And he's stuck in a completely different city, that he hates.

New York is nothing but dirty and so utterly annoying at night time.

He sighs as he calms down a bit.

He just slumps back into the bench. Staring at the twin tracks that seem to mock him. It's times like this when he misses Florida.

"Okay relax Dream, you'll just wait the extra minutes, and soon you'll be on your way home." He whispers to himself before his thoughts were rudely interrupted by a man snapping at the guy strumming his guitar.

"Would you just shut up! I don't have ANY spare change!" He says and the guitar guys curses him out and picks his stuff and leaves because this is New York, and nobody is nice.

"Fuck you too! Your songs aren't even that great! Asshole." The said man yells as he watches the guitar man leave up the stairs.

He sighs before sitting next to Dream, a decent amount of space between them.

It's almost awkward how oddly thick the tension has gotten. Dream wants to say something to the dark brown haired man with green gray eyes, the guy who's definitely much shorter, and who seems to also be having a bad day.

He turns his head slightly to look at him only to find that the shorter was already looking at him. It makes Dream's cheeks light and warm up at the gesture. And he breaks eye contact quickly, looking everywhere but at the man.