If you ask me now what I was doing there, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t remember much about that day; where I was going, who I needed to see, even which direction I was headed. The only thing that stuck out was a chance sighting on the subway of the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on.
He was like a vision from a dream. Tall and slim with delicate, tanned and seemingly hairless flesh that peeked out of the top of a silken button-down shirt. He had a statuesque, flawless face with deep-set eyes framed perfectly in dark lashes, a strong nose and thick, plump lips. I watched breathlessly every time he parted them slightly to allow his tongue a brief moment to moisten them. He had this wealth of luxurious dark hair that cascaded past his sharp cheekbones and halfway down his back, carelessly draping somewhat over his slender shoulders. He never even glanced in my direction, in fact his gaze, seemingly lost in a sort of daydream, never waved from the window. As much as I feared he would turn and see me, I couldn’t bear to tear my eyes off of him.
I remember thinking to myself that he must be a model or an actor or something. Someone that gorgeous couldn’t possibly have a regular, normal pigeon job, those were meant for the plain, average shmoes like me. The music that had been blaring through my headphones now sounded like low, muffled noise from how distracted I was by him. If other people noticed me staring, I wasn’t aware of it, the only thing on my mind was whether it would be a wise idea to approach this seemingly flawless individual. It didn’t take me long to conclude that it would be a very bad idea, seeing as how my nervous and shy nature would make a fool out of me in front of him.
Now, I’ve been shot down by both men and women all my life, for all sorts of reasons. I’ve never been popular, I’m not all that bright, talented or tough, nor am I anything special to look at. In fact, there has never really been anything special about me. (Sometimes I think I’m funny but then nobody laughs and the notion quickly passes.) What could a guy like me ever have to offer an angel like that? That’s why, as painful as it was, I let him go. I remember literally having to force myself to get up and walk off the train, and it was more intense than anything I experienced while making myself get up for work or school. I stood there waiting for the doors to open, still staring at him, drinking the sight of him in as much as possible before I had to go. Even then, he never turned to face me. As the train pulled away from the station, I followed him with my eyes as far as I could, regret stinging in my chest.
It’s been several months since I first saw him, but his memory is so vivid, it’s like I only saw him last week. Every time I ride the Q train, I look for a sign of him. But this city is so huge, and the chances of seeing him again are near impossible. I don’t even know if he lives here, or if he was just a tourist. Every time I look back on that moment, that familiar pang of regret comes back in full force. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” I tell myself. “It doesn’t make any difference because even if by some miracle of destiny you see him again, he’s way out of your league. You’re just a poor boy from Brooklyn and you could never have anything he’d want or need.” And as depressing as it is, I’m right.
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“Yo, Doug!” My roommate, Raphael hollers at me through the bedroom door, slamming on it loudly. I hadn’t even heard him come in. “Get your shoes on, man. C’mon, I need the place for a little while.” I hear a faint female giggle in the background, and my eyes roll skywards.
“Alright, alright, sheesh, dude, hold your hormones!” I put away my sketchbook, gather my things and open the door, eyeing the well-stacked black woman he was planning to spend the evening with. She looks me up and down and gives me a vacant smile in return, and Raphael wastes little time in shoving me along.
“I’ll see ya’ in the mornin’, a’ight?” He looks down at me, smiling broadly, as if gloating that he’ll be getting pussy and I’ll be sleeping on a park bench somewhere. The moment the bedroom is free, he takes her inside and they close and lock the door. I shake my head to myself and sigh, getting my coat, bag and Walkman, locking up the apartment as I leave. I reach into my pocket and find I have just enough to buy a few burgers and a subway token. For now, at least, the token will suffice for a warm place to sit and relax.
Once on the subway, I just zig-zag around from train to train aimlessly, intentionally trying to get myself lost. Maybe something interesting will happen and I’ll either get mugged, gang raped or witness a bum kill and eat a rat or something. Somehow, I end up at the Broadway-Lafayette station and realize I’m all alone. The place is like a maze; it’s cavernous, poorly lit and cold, and to make matters worse, there’s this faint sound of dripping water far off in the distance. The pillars make perfect hiding places for sick, twisted predators and considering the fact that I’m 5’5”, maybe a hundred and sixty pounds in the pouring rain, I wasn’t scaring anybody off. I decide to transfer. I walk under a series of lights that had gone out completely, making this portion of the platform almost completely cloaked in shadow. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark form sitting on the floor against one of the pillars. He reaches his hand up to me and I tear the earphones off my head.
“Hey…please…” A soft, gentle male voice pleads with me weakly.
“Oh my gods!” I rush to kneel down to him, and his long, slender fingers curl around the fabric of my zip-up hooded sweatshirt. I push back the tousled long hair from his face, the smell of blood hitting me right between the eyes. He starts tugging against me, like he wants me to help him up, so I do. He isn’t as heavy as I thought he’d be, in fact, he seems a bit thinner in frame than I am, though a bit taller. His long coat made it hard to make out much on him.
“I…they took my…” His voice cracks from stress, and he leans against me heavily.
“Shh, c’mon, lets walk a little, you’ll be okay.” I put on my most soothing, calming voice to try and steady him emotionally. It was obvious what happened here, now I need to get him into the light so I can see how badly they hurt him.
“I…. don’t know what they hit me with…” He mutters, holding his head with his free hand, using me as his crutch. We get into the light and his head is dipped down, his long, blood-soaked raven hair obscuring his face. I lean him up against another pillar and support his shoulder, nudging his face up by the chin.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, I just need to see how bad that wound is, okay?” He nods slowly and lets me tilt his head back up. Even through the blood and dirt marring his face, I knew at first glance who it was: my angel. “Out of all the bars and gin joints in the world…” I mumble to myself with a wide-eyed smirk, shaking my head from side to side ever so slightly.
“What?” His dark eyes squint and lock onto mine. His was a pure, dramatic brown, as opposed to my olive green ones.
“Nothing. It looks like a flesh wound.” I smile fully, sliding his hair back so I can get a clearer view of that beautiful, yet no longer perfect face; and in a way, that made him even more beautiful. “But I should take you to a hospital anyway. Just in case, ‘cause, I’m not a doctor.” I might appear calm, but inside, I’m dancing. Not only am I face to face with my angel again, but we’re actually talking, and I’m getting a chance to help him, and that makes my heart sing in a way I can’t possibly describe. “I’m Doug.” I step away from him a bit, and he grabs both my shoulders for support.
“Ricky.” He groans, his knees buckling slightly. Ricky. I repeat that name in my head over and over, straining my willpower not to start leaping for joy right then and there. My angel’s name is Ricky.
I help him up the stairs slowly, gripping his weakened, wobbly body close to mine. Beyond the smell of blood and subway tile, he had a thick, rich musk to him that made my groin stir. He proceeds to thank me profusely every other step of the way, until we reach the token booth. I quickly ask the man behind it to call an ambulance for us.
