This just kind of came out of nowhere and was also written during class. I don't know when there'll be more chapters or how long it'll end up being but enjoy! I guess now that I live in London (!) it's only to be expected that the Tube sparks ideas.

Jem should have known that this would happen on the day that he accidentally wore the shirt with the hole in it. He'd gotten dressed in the dark this morning because it was too early and he didn't feel like turning on the lights. By the time he noticed the hole near the hem, he had already gone through the gates and was on the escalator down to the platform and it was way too late to go back and change.

Never again would he get dressed in the dark. Never again.

He'd worn the one shirt that needed to go in the trash and now the hottest man he had ever seen was getting off the escalator and walking towards him.

Hot Guy looked like he'd had a very long night. His hair was a mess, like he'd been running his hands through him over and over. His clothes were equally rumpled and he had very dark bags under his eyes. It almost seemed like he'd had a very enjoyable night in someone else's bedroom, but that theory was squashed by the pencil he seemed to have forgotten behind his ear and the stack of library books he was carrying that clearly hadn't fit in his backpack. The new theory was that he had just pulled an all-nighter studying and was still half asleep, as evidenced by how he stood staring at the platform sign stating which stations the train was going to for a few minutes before figuring out that that was the correct one. If it was the Northern Line and its confusion of different directions and branches it would have made sense to look that long, but this was the Circle Line. It wasn't that complicated.

Then Hot Guy suddenly made eye contact with him and Jem almost forgot what song he was supposed to be playing.

His mother always said that busking in the Tube stations to make some extra money would never end well, but clearly she was wrong. Hot Guy was currently walking towards him and reaching one hand into his pocket. He was either about to be mugged or about to get his number.

Instead of either of those, Hot Guy smiled at him, dropped a bill into the violin case at his feet, and walked away.

Jem was left reeling from that experience. Hot Guy was even hotter up close, if you ignored the clear signs of sleep deprivation. He looked down at his violin case, just to see how much Hot Guy had left. It was a bill, so it had to be at least £5 because anything smaller only came in coins. What he saw, however, gave him quite a shock. Instead of the normal blue of a £5 note, there was a flash of purple among the notes and coins.

There was no way Hot Guy had meant to give him £20.

Jem immediately stopped playing and reached down to grab the note with the intent to find Hot Guy and return it. When he looked around, though, Hot Guy was nowhere to be seen. All his hopes were dashed by the telltale sound of the train doors closing and the sound of it speeding away. Hot Guy was gone, and Jem was left with a £20 bill that definitely did not belong to him.

That left only one solution. Most people took the same train every day to get to work or class or wherever they were going. Jem already had a few regulars who would always stop to say hello or wave as they went by. He was just going to have to hope that Hot Guy was one of them and would be back tomorrow.

He was going to have to come back every day until Hot Guy blessed Blackfriar's Station with his presence again.

. .HERONSTAIRS

Will was exhausted. The only sleep he'd had last night was the five minutes that he'd dozed off and woken up to a wet spot where he'd been drooling on his book. As usual, he'd waited until the last moment to do all of his school work and paid for it with pure, unbridled stress and an all-nighter. Now he had to get on the train, get back to school, and try to stay awake through his lectures. The only thing that was keeping him going was the café in the lecture building's lobby. The coffee wasn't great, but it would keep him awake.

He was so tired, in fact, that he didn't notice the angel of a man playing the violin at the bottom of the escalator until he was right there. He knew he had a £5 note in his pocket that he was going to use for his coffee, but he also had some coins that he could use instead and Hot Violin Guy deserved his £5. He wished he had time to stop and talk (or give the guy his number), but he needed to get to class, so just giving him money would have to suffice until he hopefully saw him again and wasn't in a rush and half asleep.

Will gave Hot Violin Guy the biggest smile he could muster at the moment, dropped the note in the violin case, and walked away.

Fifteen minutes later, he was really regretting not sleeping last night. He didn't have a few coins. He had one. He hadn't had a £5 note. He had a £20 note. He wasn't getting his coffee. He was getting a glare from the student barista who looked as tired as he was. It was all coming back to him now. He'd put the £20 note in his pocket because he didn't have anything smaller. He must have been thinking about going to the bank for some smaller bills and his stupid brain had switched it around so that the note in his pocket had become a fiver.

And now Hot Violin Guy had an extra £20.

And the café didn't accept card payments.

And he couldn't get to an ATM before class started.

Great.

"Cece, I messed up," was the first thing he said after pulling his phone out and opening his contacts.

"Let me guess," Cecily answered. "You stayed up all night working on homework cause you waited too long to do it."

"I did but that's not what I'm talking about. There was a really hot guy playing the violin in the Tube station-"

Cecily's gasp could have rivaled anyone in her secondary school's theatre organization. "And you didn't get his number? God, William, have you learned nothing?"

"Just shut up and let me finish," Will said. Sisters, the world's worst creation. "I got all confused when I tried to give him a tip and now he has £20 and I have £1 and no coffee."

There was a pause and Will could hear someone laughing hysterically in the background. "You're on speakerphone and Ella is laughing at you."

"Yes, I could hear that."

"Did you at least get his name?" Ella asked.

"No, Ella, I did not get his name. I slept for five minutes last night. I wasn't quite thinking straight."

Cecily took over again while Ella continued laughing in the background. "What did he look like?"

"Um… he was Asian. That's all I know. And he was very very good-looking."

"Very helpful, William," Cecily said. "I guess there's only one thing you can do, then."

"Fall asleep in class all day and wallow in my own misery?"

"No, idiot. Go back to the station at the same time every day and find him again."

Will rolled his eyes even though Cece couldn't see him. "I don't have class every day so why would I go in when I don't need to?"

"You could go to the library and study," Ella said from farther away. "Just a suggestion."

"Fine. But only cause I want to find him again." And maybe ask very nicely if he can spare £20.

"It's a plan then," Cecily said. Will heard the sound of the kitchen door opening (apparently his father still hadn't oiled the hinges) and then, "Mom, listen to what your son got himself into today."

"Cecily Alwena Herondale, I am going to murder you."