A/N: Hello! This story was written for Camp Jupiter in response to the prompt below. I hope you guys like it and remember to review!
Cohort: 2
Prompt: Subway/Metro/Underground- "I've met some weird people down there"
Word count: 1,590
Disclaimer: This is going to be me pretending like I know anything about how subways/metros work because I really don't and that's going to become evidently clear.
A resounding voice bounced off the pristine white walls of the train, announcing their arrival at a particular station.
'Okay,' Hazel reasoned with herself as she let out a stream of "Excuse me"s and 'Pardon's—Being in a hurry doesn't excuse rudeness!—while she pushed her way through the crowd, squeezing past the sliding door and into the station. 'This should be just enough to get me there and then back home.'
Taking a breath of fresh air after being in the cramped vehicle, she stopped to check the worn-out watch before nodding to herself in satisfaction.
So long as she caught this next train, she would be able to make it to her appointment not just on time, but early. And, she was a good twenty minutes early for the next train, so Hazel was sure that her chances of missing it were close to none.
She swept past men in long trench coats and women talking angrily on phones, doing her best to not hit any suitcases on her way to the ticket kiosk. Hazel wasn't a big fan of the station. In contrast to the brightly lit train, the muddy brown walls (there was a bit of peeling paint as well, of course) of the station were highlighted by faint orange lights, giving off the impression that Hazel was tunneling her way through a dungeon.
Just as the ticket station came into her line of sight, she accidentally ran right into a large, beefy man, who wasted no energy in glaring down at her angrily. She began to apologize profusely, when a train whooshed past them on the rail, coming to a quick stop in front of the station.
Unfortunately for her, the strong gust of wind managed to pry the wad of green bills from her hands and floated it away.
Hazel watched in horror as her cash fell beside the feet of a little boy in line by the new train, whose eyes lit up as he bent over to pick it up and show it to his mother. His mother smiled down at him before guiding him into the waiting vehicle, past Hazel's line of sight.
She watched as the platinum silver train that conveniently carried the last of her money vanished via the long tunnel.
Hazel began to wring her hands desperately, trying to stamp down the frantic panic that was swelling within her. She pleaded with the ticket seller, but was met with no avail. Eventually, the ticket seller placed a Gone for Break sign on the kiosk, offering Hazel an apology and leaving her in a practically empty station.
A large sigh escaped Hazel's lips and she sunk down to the floor. Forget her appointment, she didn't even have cash to get a ticket back home. She was stranded.
Oh, how her mother was going to kill her.
"Are you lost or something?" Hazel jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, and her eyes snapped open to see a boy around her age, clad in entirely black except for an over-sized, brown, leather Aviator's jacket.
She could have sworn that she was there was no one else in her vicinity. It was almost like he had just appeared out of the shadows...
"You're not an axe murder, are you?"
As he blinked in confusion, Hazel felt blood rushing to her face. She groaned at herself internally, her short-circuited brain lacking any kind of filter.
"Uh...No. Are you sure you're okay?"
Perhaps someone not afflicted by the thought of being stranded in a subway would start apologizing and assuring that they weren't, in fact, brain-dead. But unfortunately for Hazel, she never really acted like a normal person when she was flustered.
"S-sorry," she said, "It was the first thing that came into my head."
The boy raised his eyebrow, "The first thing that came into your head was that I'm going to murder you...with an axe?"
By now, Hazel was sure her face was as red as it was humanely possible. In her defense, she didn't talk to much people her own age because of her mother's...business.
"I-uh...I'm sure you're a very nice guy...I've just uh...I've just met weird people down there."
"That try to kill you with an axe," the boy said dryly. "I'm sure. Well, I'll be going—"
"No, I'm sorry, really," Hazel said quickly, guilt filling her stomach like one of those heavy jewels her mother liked to sell to gullible customers. "I was just surprised, that's all."
She didn't know if he accepted her explanation or not, but he did narrow his eyes.
"Well?" He asked expectantly. "Are you lost or not?"
"Not lost, no," Hazel told him.
"Then?"
"Then what?"
He looked at her like she was crazy. "Why are you sulking around on the floor?"
"I'm not sulki—" Hazel took a breath. "I just lost all my money, so I'm kind of stranded. Plus I'm going to miss my doctor's appointment which is going to be kind of annoying to reschedule. And my mom's going to kill me."
The boy looked at her skeptically, and she got the strange feeling that he could see right through her. "You're what, thirteen?"
When she nodded hesitantly, he continued, "What kind of mother lets their kid go to the doctor alone?"
"Your local town witch that doesn't have time for her daughter," internal Hazel replied. Instead, real-world Hazel defended her mother, "It's not her fault. She's busy with work. And what are you doing here, anyway? Are you waiting for the next train?"
The boy shrugged nonchalantly, "Not really. I just go wherever. It's kind of my hobby."
Now it was Hazel's turn to be skeptical, "Your hobby is to ride the subway? Where exactly are your parents?"
His face darkened, and his hands enclosed into fists. "My mom's dead. And my dad's barely around enough to know what I'm up to."
Hazel frowned in a mixture of surprise and empathy. Her own father had died a little while after she was born, and her mother rarely ever paid attention to her if she could help it. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
He shrugged and continued, though he made a face that screamed, 'I don't know why I'm saying this or even talking to you'. Hazel got that face a lot at school, though this time, it was different.
"I have an older sister, though. She's wonderful; I mean, she's practically raised me since I was a kid."
"Then why are you..." Hazel's voice trailed off.
He looked down, but Hazel could still see dark silhouettes of guilt shadowing in his eyes. "It's just...She'd never say it, but...I think she just wants some time to herself for once. Just a moment where she doesn't have to play make-shift mother or older sister."
"Why don't you...pick up a hobby," Hazel suggested. "It's better than just riding the subway all the time."
"Great," he said with excessive enthusiasm. "I'll be sure to sign up for the nearest How-to-be-an-axe-murder class. Have you seen any flyers?"
Hazel's face went a familiar shade of red, as she stammered "T-That's not...I already said sorry..."
She paused as he started to laugh—a sound lighter than what she thought he could make—and though she really didn't know why, she found herself joining in.
They found themselves talking for a while, and before they knew it, the station was once again swarming with people. Hazel glanced wistfully at the train pulling into the station, wondering how she was going to explain to her mother that she needed to be picked up and had missed the appointment.
If only she could buy a ticket and make it...
"Well, I'd better go," the boy said, and they both rose. As he turned to leave, he paused. "It's kind of weird that we were talking for so long and we don't even know each other's names."
"It's Hazel," she told him. "Hazel Levesque."
His eyes widened by just a fraction. Ah, this, Hazel was used to. "Wait, you're the girl from that Pluto's Clairvoyance shop..."
Hazel sighed and shifted slightly, "Yeah, that's me. I'm surprised you know about the shop...we don't get much outside business. And those who come don't usually like to...tell others."
"Actually, I pass by the store on my way to school."
"Really?" Hazel said in surprise. There was only one school near there. "We go to the same school?"
He shrugged, "Guess we'll find out on Monday. The name's Nico, by the way. Nico Di Angelo."
She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment. Once most people found out about her mother's business, they usually attempted to cut all ties with her. Hesitatingly, she took his hand and smiled, "Nice to meet you, Nico."
A large clatter of noise filled the once silent station as people lined up to clamber aboard the waiting vehicle.
"Oh, here," Hazel's eyes widened as he dug around in his pocket and pulled out a few crumpled up bills. "This should probably cover you, right?"
"N-No, I can't take this," Hazel stammered. "What about you? Don't you need to get home, too?"
He shrugged, and pushed the cash into her hand. "I have enough. Seriously, take it."
"Thank you so much," she said softly as she hesitantly enclosed the bills within her hands.
"Yeah, thank you too."
"Me? For what," Hazel asked in confusion.
He shrugged again, albeit, this time more sheepishly. "I don't really know, I just feel a little better after talking to you."
"So do I."