Walls

Two strangers on a train and the track that changes everything

I quicken my pace as the clock at the station shows the time 17:54. Four minutes to get to Platform 5 and catch the train back to East Croydon — actually, three, once the platform staff start blowing that whistle. I definitely did this to myself. I could have arrived at the station early. I would have had more than enough time if I hadn’t decided to take that little detour. But what’s a day trip to Brighton without ending it with a little something sweet?

So now, here I am, half-jogging through the station, paper bag rustling and bussin’ a small sweat. I regret nothing though. I’m about to sink into that window seat on the train, crank up the volume on my Chilled Right Out playlist and eat the hell out of this glazed doughnut — if there’s a window seat left, that is.

A few of us rushing for the same train manage to slip through the train doors just as the whistle blows. Luckily, I was able to hop on towards the back of the train so there were still a few seats left and more importantly, my favourite window seat just by the doors was weirdly still available. It’s usually the first to go but hey, I wasn’t complaining. I hurried quickly to make sure I could secure it ahead of the other stragglers who jumped on the train behind me.

Just as I had settled in and rested my bags on the seat next to me, I heard a deep, sexy voice ever so slightly through my headphone frequency. I pushed my left headphone aside a little, so I could hear properly. As I looked up in turn, I felt my breath catch. His hazel eyes which glistened delicately like marbles in the sun, met mine in a moment that felt… fated. His shoulder length locs fell loosely, framing a face that looked unfairly well-designed.

“Can I sit here?” He smiled warmly at me, with a gentle kindness behind his eyes.

“Oh, sorry, of course!” I scrambled to move bags, smiling shyly back at him as he sat down. How was I meant to go in on this doughnut now, with this fine specimen seated next to me? Stuffing my face full of dough leaving remnants of powder around my mouth was not sexy in the slightest. No. Tillie’s Dreamy Doughnuts would have to wait.

He made himself comfortable in his seat as I adjusted my bags on my lap. Yes, there was a beautiful man sitting next to me, but it’s not like he’s going to talk to me — they never do. So once I was comfortable, I unlocked my phone and switched my focus back to my Spotify. I scrolled through my playlist, deciding which song to start the journey with. But whilst doing so, it’s like I could feel his eyes on me. Too shy to look up and see if I was right, I continued to scroll. After some back and forth, I decided to settle on Feeling U, Feeling Me (Interlude) by Alicia Keys and would let shuffle do the rest.

“Good taste.”

My left headphone’s still half off, so I hear him clearly this time. I’m surprised — he actually talks. I can’t remember the last time a man struck up a conversation with me in public. Maybe the tides are changing.

“You know about this interlude, yeah? It gets me every time” I half smile, trying to keep my cool.

“Of course. The Diary of Alicia Keys is one of the best albums R&B has to offer,” he leans back slightly, eyes still on me.

“You’re talking my language. The way it transitions into Slow Down? Iconic.”

“You know ball. People don’t talk about those early Alicia interludes enough. I’m impressed.”

It’s always funny when men think they know more about music than me. They never do. But this one’s so fine, I don’t mind humouring him a little.

“I know a little something something,” I shrugged, grinning.

I feel like I’m usually so awkward when it comes to these sort of interactions. Perhaps because they don’t happen all that often. But talking to him felt surprisingly… natural. Like we had known each other in a past life or something.

He laughs and then unlocks his phone. “So what else you got on rotation?”

“Mostly old stuff. But I’ve recently been back on Kaleem Taylor. You heard of him?”

“Can’t say I have. Hold on…” He types quickly. “Kaleem Taylor, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” I lean in as his name pops up.

He clicked on his profile and scrolled through the artist page.

“Oh rah, he’s got bare music.”

“Yeah, he’s been at it for years. I’ve been a loyal fan for almost fifteen. Waiting patiently for a new drop… it’s been a couple of years now.”

“Okay, I’m definitely looking forward to getting into this,” He was now viewing his full discography. “Where should I start?”

“Good question. I would say start with his earliest EP and then work your way through — but I don’t think that one’s on there anymore. Try Version first.”

He nods, scrolling. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his AirPods case, and offers me one.

“What track should we play first?”

“Oh gosh, no pressure then,” I laugh. “Alright, let’s go with Walls. You’ll like that one.” I took the Airpod from him and placed it in my ear.

“Okay, this is good. Really good. I like this a lot,” He starts nodding to the beat.

“Told you.” Our heads are now moving in perfect sync.

We sat in silence for some time, as the music momentarily transported us both into our own worlds. I looked out of the window and closed my eyes, all the while still bopping my head lightly to the beat. I’ve heard this song a thousand times, but somehow it feels new — maybe because he’s listening to it too.

Knowing the song inside out, I open my eyes just before the track starts to fade and glance over at him. He’s leaned back, eyes shut, completely inside the song. He looks peaceful and unguarded. Kind. All the things I’ve been longing for in a man.

He opens his eyes, catching mine. This time, I don’t look away. A small smile pulls at the corners of both our lips.

“So… what do you think?” I ask, handing the Airpod back.

He exhales a small laugh. “I think we need to create a blend, that’s what I think,” He straightens himself up in the seat, snapping his Airpods back in their case.

“I don’t be making Blends with just anyone, you know. I don’t even know your name,” I laughed.

“I’m not just anyone.” He offers me his hand. “Elliott.”

I breathe out through a smile, slipping my hand slowly into his.

“Lila.”