We Loved the Silent Sun Ch. 01

Hi all! I would like to thank you for reading the first story in a series. This is my first story, so please don't grade me too harshly! Please leave comments on things that I can improve! Thank you so much guys!

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Chapter One: The Silent Sun

The train was late, and now I am tired of just about everything. My professors, my dorm mate and most of all: homework. I fucking hated that crap. Fortunately, it is summer and I am so ready to take a load off. College was really killing me and I was glad to be over with it, if only for the summer. The train ride from Boston was relaxing and I didn't talk to anyone.

Next to me was this old dude with graying hair. He had those ancient looking round glasses, which you would see your parents wear in home movies of you as a kid. He wasn't looking at me, but at his Ipad, which was playing a movie that had Meryl Streep in it. I had known what she looked like because my ex-girlfriend had loved The Devil Wears Prada. I suddenly thought of her. Guilt washed over me, I missed her.

I stared out through the window, and watched as we left Boston behind. Green leafy trees replaced its tall, metal skyscrapers. The sky behind it was turning those warm colors that I always loved. I imagined a cowboy, with trademark wrangler jeans, grabbing his lady and riding off into the sunset. I played old western music in my head while continuing to look out through the window; it was now filled with a sea of flowing green trees.

I got a coffee, even though I hated coffee. The hot steam rolled up my nose as I again looked at the dying sun out the large train windows. A million thoughts swirled in my head, as they always did. I saw my reflection as I longingly looked through the window. My sharp gray eyes stood out among my other features. My dirty blond hair was defying gravity as I had put gel in it before I left. Lastly, I saw my tanned skin. Well, I never really tanned at all and my ancestry was white, but for some reason, since puberty my skin looked naturally darker. I looked like a skinnier, shorter Cristiano Ronaldo with blond hair. I laughed quietly at the thought.

My thoughts turned every which way, thinking about this, then that. I thought about love, about life, money, New York City, Hannah and lastly about Ally. I finally got bored with myself and put in my headphones. I cranked them up loud to drown out my meandering thoughts. I closed my eyes and let the music take over.

*

We arrived as the sun plunged beneath the golden horizon. I gathered my bags and bounced off the resting train. There were so many people, and I thoughtlessly followed a group who seemed to know their way around. I then saw the exit sign ahead, and walked a little faster towards it.

I looked at the people who rushed by me, as I walked towards the stairs directly under the exit sign. There were so many different kinds of people. This one guy, he looked to be in his late 30s. He was noticeably stressed and was wearing the fanciest suit I had ever seen. He looked down at his phone every couple of seconds, as if he was waiting nervously to get a call or text that seemed way too important. Over to the right of me, I saw a young girl with a happy smirk on her face. She was eating a ketchup-filled hot dog that I guessed she got from one of those famous New York stands on the sidewalk above.

No one was looking at each other and everyone seemed to be in their own little world. I was in mine too; I was always in my own little world.

"Oliver!" I heard as I sprung to the top of the stairs. She smiled widely at me, jumping up and down quickly. Her long blond hair was jumping with her and you could hear her shoes hitting the floor from a mile away. She ran towards me and jumped into my arms. She was wearing really good smelling perfume and seemed to have lost a tad bit of weight.

"Hi, Hannah Montana," I exclaimed as I tightly hugged her. That was my nickname for her. She called me olive oil because of my tanned skin. I don't know, I never really got why she called me that either. Nonetheless, when we were in middle school, I would come over like three times each week. Mostly because her parents were nicer than mine, but I really did love to hang out with her. We would watch Hannah Montana all the time; I guess I just started calling her that. God, did I really miss this girl.

"I missed you, sooooo much," she said as she pulled away with that wild smile lingering on her face.

"I've missed you too," I said in my low, croaking voice.

We walked up into the still, humid air of New York City. I barely listened to her as I looked around. The air had a sort of energy that I loved. The sky was colorless but the people weren't; they were full of color, had energy and I saw many smiles.

We walked and she talked mostly. She always loved to talk and I always loved to listen. That was the foundation of our relationship, and I just nodded and smiled. She even made me laugh a few times as she told me a trick. It was about how she got out of paying her taxi fare two times. She really was an amazing girl.

"Have you talked to Ally recently?" I questioned, as we continued to walk through the streets of New York.

She smiled while tilting her head towards me, her long blond falling over her shoulders.

"Yes, Oliver. And know that girl misses you like crazy," she said as her smile faded, and her head turned away to look across the street. "You guys really need to get back together."

"Hannah, get over it already. It has been a year. Were done," I answered.

"It might be over for you, it's not for her."

"Ughhhh," I growled and continued walking alongside her, up the street to her penthouse.

"If you don't even like Ally, then you must have found another girlfriend at MIT," she suggested laughing, becoming her own playful self again, a wide smirk showing up on her face. She knows I never liked to talk about relationships. She had respected that boundary up until now, and I thought that maybe Ally had texted her and wanted info on me. They had grown up together, and maybe they had a super-secret plan to get us back together. Those two were like that; they were always so secretive, and kept things from me. I hated it.

I chuckled a bit and looked down at my new shoes. "No, no there isn't," I said as I continued to stare downward.

"It's over this way," she advised as she took my hips with both of her hands, and lead me through the revolving doors. I looked up to see the lobby of her building. It was so futuristic looking and the white lights were dimmed but there were colors of reds, blues, and greens everywhere. I could hear loud music pumping far away, and assumed it to be the club Hannah always talked about on our long phone conversations.

We walked down the lobby to the elevators and packed in with four other people. It was quite cramped with my suitcase and stuff. It was kind of awkward and the elevator music didn't help at all. I looked over to see Hannah; she looked deep in thought about something. I wondered what it was she was thinking about.

As we glided up, the other four people got out in intervals. Hannah lived at the very top because, of course, it was the penthouse. Her parents were filthy rich and bought her this because she was accepted to Columbia. She did have fantastic grades, and was always on the honor roll at our private school. Although she was a little bit more social than I was, she did not have many friends. She and I were alike in that regard.

The elevator door opened and we got out. I then followed her to the door and waited as she turned the key. The door swung opened I walked in. I dropped my bags and walked over to the ceiling-to-floor windows. I looked down to see massive amounts of people and the lights below me; it looked really beautiful. I was smiling as I turned around to face Hannah. She was looking down at her phone, texting Ally I theorized.

"Where's my room?" I asked eagerly as I walked over to her. "And who are you texting?"

"It's over there," she answered. Ignoring the latter and turning her phone off, putting it snugly in her jean's pocket.

She then grabbed some bags, and walked me over to my room. It was really nice and the bed was a mid-sized California king. I again walked over to the windows on the opposite side of the door and gazed at the people below.

"Here you are, my love," she said giggling again. "Would you like anything else?"

"No, I think I might go walking later," I answered. "Need to get some fresh New York air."

"Okay, well... here is your key, for when you get back in." She handed me a silver key and I took it, looking it over.

"Don't stay out too late picking up those slutty New York girls," she said, looking serious but amused at the same time. She had changed over the year. Yeah, she was skinnier and she seemed to be a bit more confident, but she focused much more on my relationships. I need to see what she and Ally were talking about.

I smiled at her shyly, and walked over to hug her. She held me tightly and I again recognized how much I had really missed this girl. I closed my eyes and hugged her tighter.

After a while of silent hugging, she turned around when she got to the door and looked at me.

"Goodnight, olive oil," she said tiredly and closed the door quietly behind her.

*

It was a beautiful evening out and the summer air felt warm against my exposed skin. I looked up at the tall buildings around me, then back down at the emptying sidewalks. I walked up 7th Avenue and looked around Times Square. I had never been to New York and I was sure happy I came.

This summer, I guess I wanted to find myself. Last summer I was always in a hurry trying to find scholarships and financial aid for college. With Ally and our break-up happening, it was crazy and I had no time to just sit and think. However, this summer was different and much more relaxed.

I stood in Times Square for a while just staring at the huge billboards. There were still people walking around, even though it was late. Over 39 million people cross through here over the course of a year, I thought. Being the geek I am, I had studied up on Wikipedia before coming here. I had a list of the sights I wanted to visit, preferably by myself with the new camera I had just bought in Boston.

I sat and watched the square, occasionally taking a look at passing cars or a billboard displaying something. I sat on these red bleachers, in the middle row of them. It was amazing; you could see the whole square from up here. I guess it was true that this city never sleeps. To me, people seemed consumed with themselves at this hour.

"It's really amazing," a voice came from above, tearing me away from deep thought. I turned to look at him. He seemed about my age or a little bit older. It's weird; I must have been so deep in thought, that I hadn't noticed him. He was rather tall and had his legs stretched over the bleachers below him. He was also somewhat skinny, with short jet-black hair, combed over to the right with gel in it... like me. He also had this huge hoodie on, which was weird as it must have been in the high 60s or 70s. It reads PRINCETON in bold orange lettering; maybe that's where he goes to college, I thought. Lastly, I noticed his sharp blue eyes peering out over the whole square. They weren't looking at anything in particular, but just scanning the area like I was just doing. I mean, he seemed like a model and for a second I thought he was.

I smiled widely at him and nodded stupidly, quickly turning back as it seemed to me I would make a complete fool of myself by talking. I heard him move, and then several large thuds came as he jumped down from his seat above me. I thought he was going to sit by me, and I felt my heart quicken and my breathing intensify. However, he continued by me and I watched him as he walked off with his hand fitted in his pockets.

The feeling can rushing at me; it was like a car that wouldn't stop. Never stopping. It was coming back again, and I was afraid it wouldn't leave this time. This stranger had short black hair like Jace. Jace was just as tall and muscular as the stranger had been. Jace looked like this boy, and it haunted me.

Memories came rushing back along with the feeling. How I hated memories. None of them are ever good things.

I went to our first High School football game as a new freshman. That is where I first met Ally and Hannah, but it is also where I first saw Jace. He was Ally's hot brother. My breath quickened and my eyes darted around that well-built body. I freaked myself out sometimes, by the enjoyment I got from just watching him run in that football suit. I went to every football game, not to hang with Ally or Hannah, but to see him. Sometimes, I would catch him staring too; I mean they were quick stares, but he was definitely looking at me. A couple of times, he had smiled at me, and my heart would basically fly out of my chest. His smiles seemed like he enjoyed catching me looking at him, though.

Those stares kept me up for most of the year; he was a senior so this was his last year, unfortunately. When I would come over to Ally's house, Jace and I would talk. He would usually make the first move, but we got along okay because he loved football and I did too. Jace loved talking to me, I could tell it! I mean he really did. He would always have this wide smile and would laugh at everything I would say. I really miss that smile.

Then Prom happened.

With his parents in Boston for their 25th anniversary, Jace planned a huge after-prom party for that weekend and everyone was invited. I was a little nervous about being at a party with Jace. I really didn't feel like seeing him making out with tons of girls. However, of course, he spent most of the evening with his friends. I later spotted him making out drunkenly with Rebecca, the queen skank of the cheerleaders. Although he did catch me staring a couple of times, he didn't smile or anything though. When the party ended, being the good person that I was, I stayed and helped clean up.

"Hey," was all I heard behind me before I turned around. Jace was in the process of siting in a chair across the table. He seemed a bit woozy from all the drinking and I chuckled a bit. Ally had assigned me to pick up beer cans from around the house. There were literally tons of them in the kitchen area. However, it seems like I will probably just crash here tonight. My parents could care less.

"Hi," I replied, standing up to look at him.

"I've noticed you these past months," he mumbled as he got up from the table, stumbling over the chair. He started laughing when he did and looked back at me.

"Ha, can you know, like help a bro out," he said. I walked over to him and put my right arm around him, as he put his left arm around me. He smelled of beer and weed, two things I hated. Hannah saw us as we entered the living room, headed for the stairs. She laughed, and asked if I needed help. I smiled at her and shook my head slowly. Butterflies formed in my stomach as I guided him up the stairs to his room. He looked like he was going to puke several times; I asked him if he felt like it, but he insisted we get to his room.

"And there we go," I said quietly as I opened and closed the door behind us, sitting him on his bed.

"Hey dude, could you like help me with these clothes," he asked as he tried unsuccessfully to pull off his shirt. I sat next to him hesitantly, clutching the shirt and pulling it over his head. It revealed his bulging muscles underneath. He looked to have an 8-pack and I almost gasped when saw them.

"I think you are just gorgeous," he whispered, almost sounding sober. My heart started to race even faster than before. My breath quickened as I looked into his warm green eyes.

I looked down at his chest muscles, then back up to his face, biting my lip. He grabbed my neck with his right arm, massaging my cheek with his thumb. I pulled my hand from my lap, and caressed his abs while still gazing into his warm and hungry eyes.

Then he did it. He leaned forward slowly and kissed me, softly. I closed my eyes and melted into his arms. We started making out, softly at first, then he got rough. He practically ripped my shirt off, and then he pulled his pants down to reveal his hardening boner. I kept feeling his abs and slowly made my way down to massage his dick.

He pushed me on the bed, pulling my hands above my head and holding them there with his strong arms. He got his hips between my legs, a smile forming on his face.

"You don't know how long I have wanted to fuck you," he spoke clumsily as he drew his face into mine and kissed me. His hands left my arms, exploring my body curiously. My God, it felt so incredible. I remembered thinking that this was a dream. No way in hell a football player was about to fuck me raw.

"Oliveeeerrrrr," we both heard coming from downstairs. He swiftly jumped off me, picking my shirt off the ground, and throwing it at me. I quickly put it on and raced towards the door.

"Wait," he said walking towards me. I turned around and he grabbed my stomach and pushed me to the wall of his bedroom. He again put my hands up above my head and French kissed me roughly. I did the same back, and could still taste the beer lingering in his month.

"Oliveeeerrrrr," Hannah yelled again as I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He pulled off of me and I turned to the right, yanking the door open.

A police car snapped me from my thoughts, and I looked about. I was back in Times Square again. I remembered the kid with black hair. How he made me feel inside. He made me feel like Jace made me feel in high school. I haven't had that feeling even with Ally. I was beginning to miss it.

I got up and slowly walked the path I had seen him walk. I hope he didn't get in a cab or anything; I really wanted to see him again. I walked further, losing hope with each step. My luck was about gone when I saw him walking, hands in his pockets, while looking across the street at the entrance to the subway. I walked faster, but made sure to stay a distance away so he couldn't see me.

Lights and sounds blared and boomed around me as I followed him. This was so unlike me, acting on my thoughts, a split second decision to stalk this guy who I just 'met'. What if he was a rapist or a serial killer? I laughed at that thought, he can rape me anytime he wants. No, no, that's wrong, but seriously, he looks like a fucking model.

I continued following him into the station, and hid behind a white-tiled pillar. There was no one else in the station besides us, and I could get a good look at him under the lights. He had a built swimmers body with lovely icy blue eyes to complement. His hair was short but spiked up in every which way.

The train came suddenly, and I slipped into the car ahead of him. I found a spot by the entrance doors and sat there quietly, sweeping my eyes around the car surveying the area. No one was in the car except a woman in the front with her headphones on.

I got up and tried to get a better look at him in the car behind me. I couldn't, at least from this afar, so I got closer to the doors that separated the cars. I stayed there a while trying to see if I could see him, without him seeing me. After a minute of silence, the car doors opened, and guess who walked through them. Yup, the stranger that I had stalked through New York.

He looked up at me, but didn't seem that surprised. I keep my eyes down, mostly in embarrassment. He glided from the doors to the seat opposite me. We were facing each other. Seconds went by and my heart was leaping out of my chest. If it wasn't for the sounds of the train, I am sure he would have heard it. I decided to peek at him from my gaze downward. I slowly inched up my eyes, and saw that he was staring down at the floor. I wanted to say something, I mean I had come this far. Either he thought I was a crazy person or was a really big loner. I was though, and it seemed like he was too. The loner, not the crazy person, I don't know. Furthermore, he didn't seem that social, but maybe he was just tired and didn't want to be bothered. Yeah, that was probably it.