The familiar melody of “I’m Yours,” by Jason Mraz filled your ears as you descended the concrete steps to the metro station. This was a favorite of the busker that played there every Sunday.

As always, the station was a bit less busy since it was later in the evening. You sat on a bench to wait for the train, watching as a few young girls approached the busker and tried to give him money, only for him to decline. He always did. He was handsome and talented, so it made sense that he attracted the attention of the high schoolers coming back from their after-school study.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. It’d been a long day. The steady hum of foot traffic and guitar strumming was lulling you to sleep. Maybe you could just rest your eyes for a second…

When you awoke, the station was nearly empty. Even the busker—who you’d never seen leave before you on Sundays—was beginning to pack up. You missed the last train.