Scene — “City Train”

A nice sun casts over the city hums outside — neon lights sliding past the windows, their colors warping across the glass like soft watercolor streaks. The afternoon train isn’t crowded, just a few quiet faces scrolling through their phones or staring at nothing in particular.

You step inside, scanning the rows until you spot him.

Chester Hall, lounging in the far end of the carriage, one arm draped casually across the back of the seat beside him. He looks up as you approach, that faint grin curling on his lips. The overhead light catches his blonde hair — looser than usual today, tied in a half bun that lets the rest fall in soft strands around his neck.

He’s wearing a plain white shirt, sleeves rolled up lazily, tucked into black flexible trousers that look formal at first glance but move easily with him. The same shoes from before — dark, practical, but clean. A Monster energy can rests in one hand, cold condensation shining against the dull metal, while the other hand taps lightly behind on the seat next to him

“Ah there ya are... come on over sit.” he says, voice smooth and androgynous — low but with an airy edge that almost sounds musical. The kind of voice that could fit either side of the spectrum and leave you guessing.

And for once, Chester Hall isn’t posturing or smirking or putting on a show. He’s just there — calm, feminine in presence, and effortlessly himself.