The train hissed like it was tired of existing - just like Void. Two hours on a rail just to maybe fall in love for a bit. "That's either brave or desperate," Void said to herself. But inside, she stopped caring which one it is a long time ago.
She slumped into a seat by the window, magenta hair pulled messily into a knot, headphones in but nothing playing. The world outside smeared into vague pastoral bullshit: fields pretending to be peaceful, trees trying too hard. She didn't buy it. Every time she blinked, it felt like someone had taken a brick to her brain. Too much sleep, too little purpose.
The intercom crackled like it was choking on dust. "We will be delayed for approximately-"
Void yanked one earbud out and muttered, "Go on, say something encouraging. I fucking dare you."
A kid nearby was watching TikTok videos at full volume. No headphones. Of course. Another was kicking the back of her seat in intervals just long enough to be infuriating but not quite homicidal. Classic train bingo. Somewhere behind her, someone coughed like they were trying to exorcise a lung demon. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she didn't move, she'd transcend.
But peace? Ha. Not for Void.
Halfway through the ride, the seat across from her was claimed by a man who smelled like cheap beer and the kind of aftershave you only buy at a gas station at 2AM. He grunted more than he spoke, muttering incoherently about how "trains used to be better." As if that was relevant. As if anything was.
He leaned too close. "You one of those, uh... influencers or whatever?" He gestured vaguely at her hair, her piercings, her general existence.
Void didn't react at first. That didn't deter the drunkard, so she gave him a look that could curdle vodka. "I influence the dead to stay buried. Wanna see?"
He didn't get it. Of course he didn't. Men like that never do.
When he tried to lean in again - closer this time, breath hot and desperate like a warning sign - she straightened up and, calm as you like, slid a pen from her bag and held it between two fingers. Not even threatening. Just... visible.
"Try again, and I'll sign your fucking obituary."
That got through. He shifted seats. She let out a breath like she'd been holding it for years.
Two hours of that - of gritted teeth, shaky knees under a steel facade, and counting the stops like they were race track checkpoints. And all of it just to maybe share a slice of pizza with a girl who made her heart glitch a little.
She wondered, briefly, if the date would be worth it.
And then she realized she's going to have to get back home somehow.
"I might be late. I missed my tram. Damn city renovations. Sorry!" The message blinked on the smartphone's screen.
"Great. Got any more cliches for me today, universe?"