#awkwardinteractions

you took the train every day, without a fault. once in the morning to get to school, and once in the afternoon to go back home. you always had your black earbuds in, usually listening to the same songs on your soundcloud playlist to get through the ride. 

you’ve been on this train so much that the color of the grey seats are engraved into your mind, that you could fall asleep and wake up at your stop, and that you’ve memorized the faces of the conductors that you pass by on your way out of the station. 

so as you stroll into the train on a fine october afternoon, you’re a bit surprised when you spot a new passenger that sticks out of the others like a sore thumb. 

dressed in all black, the most colorful part about him is the silver cross pendant hanging from his neck. he even has a mask covering his mouth and nose, and his bangs nearly cover his eyes. 

it doesn’t help that he looks like he’s six feet tall, appearing like a black tree in the middle of the train.

although people like himself don’t really faze you (you’ve seen a granny wear a disco ball as a dress), it’s the mysterious look of the boy that makes you wonder why he’s there and why he looks like that.

so you take to studying him, taking into account his slumped posture at the railing and the (unsurprisingly) black phone in hand. he had black earbuds in, but you wouldn’t be able to tell if he was actually listening to anything because it looked like his eyes were closed. 

he even had on black finger-less gloves, and his nails were painted the same color. you could probably bet that his toes were black too. 

with all this information swimming around your mind, you decided to come to a few conclusions. 

maybe he’s in grief?

since you couldn’t really see his facial expression, that was a plausible theory. it would also explain the cross necklace on his chest. 

maybe he’s just a model?

models wear monotonous clothing all the time, and although they aren’t usually black, it was still plausible. he was pretty tall. 

maybe he’s a celebrity?

this one made the most sense in your mind. his clothes seemed brand new, and he was following the trend of having clunky sneakers and layers of clothing. and although it was black, it seemed well put together, and his hair was styled in light waves around his head. 

a celebrity it is.

but then why is he on the train?

instead of getting your question resolved, that question opened up another can of worms that you got so engrossed in that by the time the train got to your stop, you almost forgot to get off.

it took the automated announcer a couple of times to repeat the destination for you to jolt out of your seat. 

as you scrambled to get out the door before it closed, the person that you had-not-so-covertly stared at decided that he was going to leave through the same door as you. 

now, this wouldn’t have been a problem if you had your wits together, but since you were running to the door, you failed to notice his movement and,

boom. 

you went running into his back, and the impact effectively sent both of you flying out of the train. on instinct, you gripped the back of his windbreaker as you felt him start to fall toward the ground. 

as you shut your eyes, you heard a loud "fuck!" leave his lips and then

you both were on the floor. 

the boy was sprawled over the gray ground with you on top of his back. your backpack had flown to sit on your head, crushing your skull with the weight of your laptop and other notebooks. you felt like the air in your lungs had been sucked out of you, and you couldn’t even muster the strength to groan at the pain in your head. 

however, you became quickly aware that you were on top of this stranger that you had absentmindedly (and stupidly, if you had to admit) ran over. 

you crawled off of him, and once you finally had a different view other than the black material of his jacket, you noticed the curious eyes of the strangers who had gathered around. you looked toward the ground instead, praying that no one would come to ask you questions and stretch the situation further. 

and as you looked at the ground, you happened to lock eyes with the person that you had knocked down, and the look he sent made your heart freeze. 

it was filled with sharp and calculating detest, staring dead into your widening eyes like a tiger who had found its prey. he picked himself up from the floor, ignoring the questions from the strangers around him, asking him if he was okay, and never breaking eye contact with you. 

there was a bit of grim smeared on his left cheek, and the black mask that he had been wearing was ripped, the cloth hanging from his pierced ears. his phone was knocked from his hand and was sitting a few feet away from him, along with his earbuds. 

his hair was mussed, and the hair that once covered his eyes now exposed them, and he just wouldn’t stop staring. 

you were a bit scared, to say the least. 

but that didn’t stop you from getting up from the floor, taking a few steps forward, and bowing your head in shame whilst holding out your hand. 

“i’m so sorry for running into you,” you said, gathering the courage to look him in the eyes again, “are you okay? are you hurt anywhere?”

there was silence, and you watched as he finally looked away from you to grab his phone. once he did, he ignored your outstretched hand and stood up by himself, his height making you have to gaze up at him. 

“i’m fine,” he finally said, and although you were expecting it, the deep and sudden tone of his voice catches you off guard.

but to add on to the surprise, he leans closer, so that the two of you are at eye-level.

“i hope you know that it’s uncomfortable to be stared at, hm? pay attention to yourself rather than other people, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,” he whispered, stating in a slate blank tone, but nevertheless leaving your voice caught in your throat.

shit.

he saw me?

the boy straightened back up, giving you no time to truly wash over his words. he took the torn mask off his ears and shoved it into his pocket, and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. 

“have a good day,” he stated monotonously, not looking at you as he walks past, leaving you with a red face and aching head on the train station platform. the strangers that were observing the scene start to scatter away, whispering to themselves as you hang your head in silent shame.

was i really that obvious?

you want to knock yourself in the head, but your backpack had already done the job for you. as a result, you sit down on a nearby bench, waiting for the pain to subside before you start walking to class. 

as you sat, you look down and notice a black object sticking out an inch from under the bench. for a split-second, a scream threatens to leave your throat as you think it’s a bug, but upon closer inspection, you realize that it isn’t. 

the thing happens to be black leather, and a sinking feeling entered your stomach before you can even pick up the object.

please tell me it’s not what i think it is. 

but alas, the universe was not on your side. 

when you picked up the leather object, the stack of plastic cards pocketed inside it made it unfortunately obvious what it was.

the emo dude’s wallet. 

and now, you somehow needed to track him down and return it, although he made it quite clear he didn’t like to be stared at, and you concluded stalking him would also make him extremely uncomfortable. 

or make him hate you. 

either way, a shiver went down your spine at the thought of making contact with those beady black eyes again. his whole aura seemed to be one not to mess with, considering the way he spoke to you and the venom in his eyes after you knocked him over. 

he definitely didn’t seem like a celebrity anymore. 

but you weren’t about to be a marked as a thief.

so as you sat on the train bench, you made the resolution to find the emo kid, give him back his wallet, and never have to see him again. 

it shouldn’t be that hard, right?