Harlem combs a hand through his long bangs, and parts it so that his eyes are visible before quickly brushing it back in place.

He couldn’t help himself. They were so, so close together. So close, Harlem could hear the music from his earphone playing faintly.

Harlem fidgeted with his phone in hand and bowed his head further down. The app on his phone that was taking too much time to load wasn’t much of a good distraction when he was standing right there.

He smelled so freaking good.

A bit of relief in the crowded train where everyone was packed together like tuna in a can. The smell of sweat and mustiness hung permanent in the air because of the ever growing heat and the barely working A/C.

Harlem luckily, had the pleasure of standing next to an A/C unit where he could feel the cold air blow out before dissipating soon after. Those cold puffs of air in addition to his constant billowing of the collar of his shirt were probably the only things that kept him from passing away right then and there from heat stroke. Harlem wipes the sweat from his nape before reaching into his bag for the water bottle that likely sank to the bottom.

It was a bottle he had for years. One that was given to him for a mistake by him. Harlem took a sip and glanced over again, thankful for the ball cap that completely shrouded his face and the fact that Harlem stood right behind him, unnoticed.

The train swayed rhythmically back and forth and Harlem felt his head turned to mush as he inhaled the scent in mouthful after mouthful.

It smells. So. Fucking…

Fuck.

Harlem stood stock still next to the bus’s door with a death clutch on the bar next to a seat. His breathing turned shallow and he felt the burning heat creep to his neck and his heart thumped in time with the tap, tap, tap of the old lady’s cane against the bar that sat in the seat behind them.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

A shudder shot through his spine and Harlem bit his lip before his shallow breathing could turn into desperate gasps.

It was so hot… Harlem used his other hand with the water bottle in toe to dig into his pocket for his magic pill.

A light gasp left his mouth as he swallowed the pill down and almost choked when their eyes met.

‘Keep it cool,’ Harlem thought, even as he could feel the heat rising in his neck again. Harlem let his eyes glaze over with disinterest as he flipped the lid to his bottle closed and tilted his cap just enough to block the scorching stare. 

‘That’s right. No one to pay attention to’ He could feel it when his gaze left his body. It was the return of balance to his mind. The return of control, or at least some resemblance to it.

Harlem let his hand settle in that light sway that allowed it to brush against him every few seconds. His breathing was a lot better than before, but he needed work. A lot of work. And time.

It was almost a relief when the slow rhythm came to a halt when the train reached its station. Harlem made his way to the opposite doors he knew his addiction would not exit. He had to be careful when doing this, so as to not get caught.

Harlem climbed the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief when the metro door opened and he was slapped with the cool air of a working A/C. He quickly pulled the mask hidden in the only pocket of his bag and made it fit snugly over his mouth and nose, effectively covering the whole of his face. Although he didn’t want to, it was way too hot to even think of walking home. Catching a cab was the safer option than risking dying before reaching his safe haven.

The cool air that his skin had soaked in the short time he stayed in the metro wore off almost as soon as he left. It was still so hot. Harlem wiped at his sweat soaked collar as he went to look for one of the many yellowish cars that preyed on the weary city workers that were too hot and tired to walk the rest of the way home.

It was so hot…

He was in a car now. Not sure which one agreed to take him, but he was grateful for the air that blasted on his face. But it was still hot… perhaps even hotter than before.

The driver whose name I never caught asked me something. Something along the line of, “Are you ok?” or “Can you hear me?”

I sigh and repeat the address I must’ve given him earlier. Then I'm stumbling. The hallway looks familiar. I’m almost home. The door is open. I’m finally home.

Home…