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The Train Boy Who Lived

By Judith Light

Humor / Romance

Chapter 1: The Birth of the Train Boy Who Lived

I went to Honeydukes today. Not exactly planning to buy anything, but then again…

Actually I’m not really good at writing, but I shall give it a shot anyway. I usually read, but never really write…So don’t make fun of me…

My particulars are as follows: 6 feet 2 inches, 118.8 pounds, typical dress-up in Honeydukes a.k.a. geek style. Grew up with my uncle, aunt and cousin until I was old enough to kicked out of the house (they hate me anyway). Age? Well, typical bachelor’s age, that’s all I can say, and I am definitely…a virgin boy.

When I took the subway train home as usual, I saw the most beautiful creature that ever walked this whole damn planet.

It was a guy. A very beautiful guy with silver-blonde hair and strikingly sparkling grey eyes. He seemed to be a little bit older than I am, probably a working person, and he was reading the novel Much Ado About Nothing. A very sophisticated guy, it seems, unlike me who’s struggling as a salaryman just to pay for my part-time college studies.

That is, if I have the guts to strike up the conversation.

If you’re wondering, yes, I’m gay. But hey, it’s the modern world. Love knows no boundaries, right? Anyways…

“Oh, shut up, you old hags! You’ve been jabbering among each other quite enough!”

I turned to look, and saw an old man—who reminded me of a snake—totally red in the face and reeked of alcohol shouting at a group of nice aunties who were sitting beside me. They were exchanging their little old housewives’ tales and didn’t really bothered me much, but this drunkard who was waving around a newspaper with one hand and a scrawny old cat tucked under his other arm didn’t take housewives’ gossip too fondly. Even the cat reminded me more of a snake than a cat. How he got past the station bringing pets along in the subway was beyond me.

“You must think that I’m a loser, ain’t ya?! You take care I don’t bash you up real good! Are you listening to me, you bitches?!”

He was being awfully rude for a drunkard, and I knew the beautiful guy have the same sentiments exactly.

“Do you have any idea who I am?! Don’t you fucking dare look down on me! My cat Basilisk and I used to—hey, what the fuck is that look, huh?!”

If I wasn’t scared shitless at his creepy intoxicated face, I would’ve given him the same incredulous look the aunties gave him.

One of the aunties tried to answer her ringing cell phone, but a whack of his newspaper at her purse stopped her short.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t answer your phone! If you dare touch that phone again I will shove Basilisk up your ass!”

I looked around me. Everyone was either too scared to react or just couldn’t care less. What the hell is wrong with the world today?

“Bitches like you are all the same! All talk but no brains! In my days, women should be seen and not heard! Just sit your ass there and let the man run the house around here, get it, tarts?!”

Go back to the ‘30s, old man. What is your problem?

“Did you hear what I just said? Don’t just keep your trap shut, answer me!” the man shouted and grabbed one of the aunties’ collar. “I’m asking you a question, bitch! Did you hear what I just fucking said?! How dare you look down on me?! I’m gonna…”

“S-STOP IT!!!”

I didn’t know what got into me. He was going too far. I had to say something. I mean, if no one’s doing anything, who else would?

All eyes were on me all of a sudden. The train was abnormally quieter than it was.

“I…I said…s…stop it…”

It took about 5 seconds for the reality to sink in to that old fart before he started giving me the stink-eye.

“You, kid. You dare to tell me to stop? You got balls, kid. Have you been watching me?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I thought as he came close to me, totally stank of J.D.

“How old are you, kid? Speak up!”


“And you think you can show your balls at a 60-year-old man like me?!”

“Wh…What are you gabbing about, old man? I’m gonna call the police if you keep this up…”

“Call whoever the fuck you want, you prick!”

He was going to punch me, so I instinctively dodged him, but my dodge caused him to miss and hit the beautiful blonde guy. He let out a cry and nursed his possibly bruised arm, his book dropping onto god-knows-where.

I snapped.

“What is your problem, you old fart?!”

I lounged at him and shoved him down onto my seat, holding him down. His cat he called Basilisk hissed and leapt off, zooming down under the first seat it could get to. We struggled like wrestlers in a match, yelling stuff I don’t even know exist in our vocabulary. He tried to get away from me but I wouldn’t let him. There was no way I’m gonna let him hurt the beautiful blonde again. I distinctively heard, amongst the din, one of the aunties asking her friend to call the train guard, but I was too busy trying to hold him down to care.

“Let go of me!” the old man unfortunately managed to break free. Surprisingly, he’s got some strength. “Don’t think just coz you got balls, you can…”

“Alright, old man. Alright. Show’s over.”

I soon noticed a strong, built man in a football-geared suit coming up to the old geezer from behind and pulled him away from me by the armpits. I’m not sure whether it’s because I wore him down a little or that the football man was really strong, but the old fart didn’t seem to resist much.

“Who the heck are you?! Mind your own business, you busybody!”

“Now, now, don’t be such a fuss, old man, and act your age, alright?” the football man grinned in a sort of strong and firm way. He then turned to me and said, “You can relax now, young man. I’ll take care of him for now.”


I heaved a sigh of relief as I sat back down on my seat. I was friggin’ terrified. I didn’t know who I was back there. It was like…I was taken over by some force and rammed up there like an adrenaline junkie, and now my MO is back to Square One, back to myself again. And now, I…

I stole a look at the beautiful blonde. He had gathered himself and picked up his book, and was sitting next to me on the other side.

“You OK?”

He was looking straight at me. Our eyes met.

“Some guy, huh?”

He was talking to me, and yet…all I could say was…

“Yeah, some guy.”

I should’ve said something. I should’ve said something comforting to him like a man.

But I didn’t.

I just sat there with my hands on my head fretting over the fact that I almost just lost my life. Sorta.

Well…That’s more or less what went through my mind. God, I felt like such a moron! That football man was just so cool! Way cooler than I would’ve been.

Anywho, the train guard came up, and those involved got off at the next station. Oh, and so did the cat as well.

The train guard wanted us to make an incident report on this, so we all took a trip down to the police station. I was the first to finish writing the report, and I couldn’t stop feeling bad for them.

“I’m sorry, everyone…I shouldn’t have gotten you into this mess…”

“What are you talking about, young man?” one of the aunties smiled as she replied sweetly. “You were amazing.”

“I agree. There’s no one in this age these days as brave as you are, young man. Just wish my son would take a few pointers from you.”

“Come now, Umbridge. Your son is pretty independent, unlike my son…”

“Isn’t your son getting ready for college this year, McGonagall?”

“Yes, that’s right…”

The aunties were jabbering amongst themselves again, so I decided to take my leave.

“Um, excuse me,” I approached the policeman in charge, “can I go now?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied. “Everything is in order now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Alright. Well…I better be going now…”

“Wait, wait, young man,” the auntie named Umbridge called out. “If it’s not too much trouble, can I have your name and address?”


Why would she want it, heaven knows. I did as she requested. The other aunties joined in as well, but the part that really cut the cake was the green leather daily planner the beautiful blonde handed to me.

“Can I have it as well?”

I couldn’t say no. As I wrote, I noticed the daily planner had the logo of a silver snake wrapped around a darker green dragon on the front cover. Very unique, almost medieval-like. When I gave it back to him he had the sweetest smile.

“Thanks for your help. I’ll be sure to return the favour.”

I felt like a pauper asking for a king’s ransom. I stuttered denials and formalities as I backed away like the coward I am. It wasn’t until I made a run for it all the way back to my apartment that I realized…

I didn’t ask him for his particulars.

I’m such an ass!

I’ve never been thanked by a beautiful person before…I guess I was kinda nervous…

Moony: You gave him your particulars, right? He might drop by your place to return the favour. So don’t worry.

HerbologyFreak: I doubt it. He’s gonna add it in to all the boyfriends he’s got. I mean, is he even gay to begin with?

QuibblerGirl: STFU! I think you’re a brave guy to tackle a drunkard like that.

Padfoot: I agree. You’ve done well, kid, being able to stand up like that.

Twincest: Who cares whether he called you back or not. The good thing is you’ve broken out of your shell!

I lay back on bed, thinking about what they said. To be honest, I don’t really feel all that special. I mean, if it weren’t for the football man, I would’ve been pulverized.
I’m such a loser…This is embarrassing…

It’s been two days since the incident. I come home to find stuff in the mail. Three of them are letters from the aunties expressing their gratitude. I suppose I should reply them.

But that is not the important thing.

The last in the mail is an express package from the famous Owlery Express. Inside the box is two English teacups. Very brand new. I wonder who this is from. I open the letter that comes with it.

Hi. I’m the blonde sitting next to you two days ago in the subway. Remember me? You sure have moved me with your heroism.




Oh my god, it’s HIM!!!

The beautiful blonde sent me a gift! It’s a pair of English teacups. The letter is all about thanking me for rescuing him. What cute letter! What cute envelope! I swear I could smell something sweet from it! LOL!

HerbologyFreak: Calm down. The smell is just probably your imagination.

QuibblerGirl: If he used express…Wouldn’t it have his phone number?

  I look hesitantly into the invoice on the box.

  Holy crap! His number is in there!

  W…What…What should I do? Should I…? I mean, does that mean he wants me to give him a call…?

  No, no, I never even called my gal pals back then, how could I even call a guy?!

  Should I even call? This can’t be happening!

  Gah…!! What am I to do…?!
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