“Westwood. I repeat: Westwood Stop,” the lady in the intercom somewhat sang. But the sound was overpowered by everyone else talking. And the train took off again. A lady in messy bun, wrinkly baby blue shirt, and ill fitted black lounge pants rocked her baby up and down, trying to stop them from crying. Were they hungry? The young mother looked around nervously. “Miss?” Oliver called out to her, waving his hand out- trying to get her attention. She looked at him a bit worried, perhaps thinking he was going to complain about the sound. But Oliver pointed to his seat, and back at her. The mother slightly gasped and rushed to Oliver. “Here you go,” Oliver smiled as he got up for the mother. “Thank you so much!” She cried out. She put her beige bag down to the side, and with her free hand, tried to get something out. “I can help,” Oliver insisted as he reached his hands out, motioning to the mother that he can hold her baby as she looked inside her bag. The mother mouthed “thank you” as she handed him her baby and dig inside her purse. She pulled out an orange pacifier and nodded at Oliver; he hands her back her baby. “Sorry Jack, I’ll get you some milk when we head home,” she whispered to her baby as she gave him the pacifier. Jack refused it for a second, somewhat annoyed it’s not milk, but takes it anyway.

A man not too far from them snorted, catching the mother’s attention. “Give him her tit,” he yelled out. Oliver turned around and saw the man grinning. The mother rolled her eyes and looked away; the man wasn’t having it. “Hey,” he said, walking closer to the mother and to Oliver, “I’m talking to you.” But the mother looked down at her baby instead. “Sure, you talk to the Faggot, but not to me,” The man barked as he slapped Oliver’s back; Oliver winced in pain. “Leave him alone,” The mother snapped. “Or what?” The man laughed, “This Faggot can’t even hurt me. Unless he sits on me and breaks my back.” “Want me to sit on you? Pretty gay,” Oliver gave the man a disgusted look; the mother slightly giggled, as well as some people hearing the conversation. “Listen you fat fuc-” The man grabbed Oliver by his grey shirt, causing Oliver to shut his eyes. But then the man quickly released. Oliver opened his eyes and saw that someone grabbed the man’s hand off him.

“I suggest you apologize to both of them,” the younger guy commanded.

“Why would I-”

“Apologize,” he commanded once again, staring right into the man’s face.

The man looked back at Oliver and the mother. “Sorry,” he mumbled, almost lifeless. The younger guy loses his grip on the older man. “T-thanks,” Oliver said as he stared at the guy who helped him; tall, pale, black curly hair and icy blue eyes. “No problem,” the guy blushed slightly and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“Loy Ave. I repeat: Loy Ave Stop,” the lady in the intercom sang. The doors opened and people starting getting in and out. The guy slightly bowed and rushed out; Oliver waved goodbye to the mother and quickly follows him.

“This is your stop as well?” Oliver called out as he walked on his side. The guy didn’t say anything for quite a while, then nodded. “Hey. Where have I seen you before?” Oliver walked a bit faster, turned around and stopped walking, causing the guy to stop right in his tracks.

“College,” he replied; his face somewhat flushed. “AH!” Oliver gasped, “In the laboratory, right?” Oliver smiled. The guy looked away and nodded.

“I’m Oliver, you?” Oliver introduced himself and faced the other way, walking side by side with the guy.

“Sixtus”

“I’ll call you Six.”

“Um?”

Sixtus looks at Oliver at the corner of his eyes.

“Alright,” Sixtus coyly smiled.

Oliver patted Sixtus on his shoulder, causing Sixtus to jump a bit.

“I’m sorry, you probably don’t like people touching you,” Oliver replied as he steps up the staircase, getting out of the train station.

Sixtus coughs a bit. “It’s not that,” Sixtus pursed his lips and covered his mouth with one hand; he tried to look anywhere else but Oliver’s ass as he follow him up the steps, but it seems to leer him back in.