The sky was heavy with grey clouds, each fat cotton like water balloon ready to explode and bath whoever was not prepared. Wind hurries to reach each side of the city and back, shaking trees and stealing hats. It wasn't rain what was expected, but a storm.

Marco stares at the red dot that was his umbrella, now far away from him after being caught by the strong winds.

"Great!" The brunette says as he runs to his original destination, barely making it to the tiny bus stop before the rain starts, but not in time to actually catch his bus which left early.

"Please." Marco asks to the back of the bus, even though he knows no one can hear him and the bus is not going to magically turn around. Once the bus is out of his sight, Marco reviews the bus schedule and learns that the next bus should be there in two hours.

The young man looks at his phone before making a call to his mother.

"Hi! Hi, Hi to Dad, too. No, no mom, I missed the bus. It's okay! No, you don't need to come. I'm fine. No, I'm keeping safe from the rain and I had some lunch, but I going to be ...two hours late. No, I can wait here. Mom, please mom I'm fine."

Marco listen to his mother's worries but eventually they say their goodbyes.

"Besos."

The little screen in his phone reads 6:37 pm, and in the upper right corner reads '29%.'

"Great."

Marco says and tucks his phone back in his hoodie pocket, deciding that listening to music was no longer an option. He focuses on the rain that falls heavy, and he can see a silhouette of someone running.

"Oh, man!" Marco hurries to open his backpack and find a hoodie he wouldn't mind giving up. All of his hoodies are red with a similar design or no design at all, but Marco wasn't sure which one he could really give a way without regret. When he looks up again to asset the runner's size, the runner is already inside the bus stop.

The young man, around Marco's age, runs inside the bus stop and the first thing he does is kick the bench next to the one Marco is sitting on. It made the plastic tremble, but one kick wasn't enough for the runner, it took more than ten kicks for the runner to calm enough to stop kicking the bench with all his strength. The man turns and sits down in the same bench, breathing shallow and fast, his arms tremble at the cold weather since he is only wearing a thin T-shirt and some jeans, he moves his brown-reddish hair out his face, and presses his hands in his face a few times before turning to glare at Marco.

Marco might had been staring, hard not to stare, but Marco didn't feel like being the next target of this obviously upset guy. So, Marco turns around and puts his earphones on to act like he is listening to music to offer the guy some...privacy.

It was an uncomfortable and awkward situation but they could ignore each other, and in two more hours they would leave and they could keep pretending the other doesn't exist.

Marco likes their unspoken agreement, and he was really planning on doing his part. But in less than ten minutes a strange noise caught Marco's attention. It was not a squeak and definitely not a cough. It was a hiccup.

The first hiccup was soon followed by another and another, then a broken sob and a sniff, and a little whine.

Marco tries not to stare, but only looking at the stranger was enough to decide what to do.

The stranger was desperately trying to get any tears from his face as far away from him as possible, he wipes his face with his hands forcefully as he tries to silence his sobs, his back trembles hard, and he becomes more erratic by the second.

The stranger turns and tries to glare at Marco, to scare him off, to look away. But with his brown irises surrender by the ugly red and fat tears, Marco couldn't really feel intimidated, the stranger looks away to the floor with a small pitiful sob.

Marco wants to say something, he needs to say something. He studied psychology for three semesters at college and Ace each class, so why can't Marco think of a single thing to say.

If it was a girl maybe he wouldn't be as shocked, but this was a guy, a guy that is obviously some type of bad boy or bully -the type that always bothers Marco.

There has to be a rule in the unspoken guy code that say something about 'guys are not suppose to cry in random bus stops in front of strangers.'

But that was a very sexist and insensible thing to think…

Marco was still side-staring the stranger when a ring startles both men. Marco hopes it was someone who could comfort the other guy.

The guy took his phone from his pocket -rubbing his eyes to wipe the tears from his face-, he stares at the screen for a moment -two hiccups as a measurement of time - and then he throws the phone as hard as his arm let him in the concrete. The phone stops ringing as it lays flat in the slightly wet floor with a broken screen but that was not enough, so the stranger stands -still crying rivers- and stomps over it, and over again, and again, until there is only pieces left.

Satisfied, he sits down as he tries to breath again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Marco bites his tongue and questions his brain, but it was all too late.

Why did he said that?

The stranger looks at Marco, unsure of how to react, but he gives a small stern nod.

"Maybe, I should." His voice was deep and raspy.

"I'm Marco." The brunette says and offers a red hoodie to the stranger.

"I'm Tom." Tom eyes the hoodie before accepting it, and he puts it on as fast as he can.

But he doesn't say anything after that.

The rain intensifies.

Marco's phone says is only '6:53.'

There is lightning.

Tom hiccups also intensifies.

"I gonna guess you really didn't like that phone." Marco says after five minutes.

"Not in particular." The guy cleans his face with the dry hoodie. His cheeks were a reddish brown because of all the crying.

"Where are you going?" Marco says after another awkward silence, but Tom turns so fast his neck makes a very disturbing *crack* noise. Surprise Marco almost falls from the bench.

"You are in a bus stop!" Marco clarifies after he noticed he most obviously touched a nerve.

"I didn't notice." Tom looks at the small roof that is keeping them dry.

"Tom?" Marco asks softly, since the he had finally slow down with the tears and Marco didn't want to say something that might set him off again.

"How are you getting home?"

"I'm not...for sometime." Marco sighs and he doesn't care for the look Tom is giving him

"Tom, I know you are frustrated-"

"Don't." Tom interrupts.

"'Don't'? What exactly?"

"Don't talk like my psychologist." Tom turns away, not wanting to continue the conversation and embarrassed that he had just confessed that he sees a psychologist.

Now everything makes sense, Tom is unbalanced, Tom can't control it, Tom can't control himself, Tom ran away again, Tom doesn't understand, but he is all right.

Tom felt tears building in his eyes.

"Okay." Marco says and moves from his bench to sit next to Tom.

"'Okay'?" The other mirrors.

"Tom, I'm stranger. You might never see me again." Marco states. " Actually, you are never gonna see me again. I don't live here or where I'm going. So, what if you tell me everything? Who am I going to tell?"

Tom stares at Marco and his invitation.

Marco smiles, hoping he seems encouraging.

"It's gonna sound very...stupid" Tom whispers.

"It's okay. I won't laugh."

"It's just- I mean- It sucks! It- It-" Tom keeps trying and failing at forming a whole sentence.

"She doesn't love me, either." Tom finally says after a pause. Marco swallows, suddenly realising that he is really not qualified to play psychologist.

"'Either?'" Marco repeats the last word.

"I mean-" Tom seems embarrassed to continue. "Yeah. Either." He finally says.

"I have always been a pretty sheltered child. Everyone around me gave me what I wanted, my parents never complain about me, my teachers said I was an 'exceptional young man and a role model for others'. I lived happily, until I noticed." Tom turns to see Marco who only nods as a sign he is paying attention.

"I throw tantrums. Not little kid tantrums, no, I scream and...turn things on fire...I'm dangerous even when I don't want to be"

Marco processed the new information.

"Turn things on fire? Like a pyromaniac?"

"Yes!"

"And nobody told you that you had pyromania at such a young age?"

"No, well. It's kinda normal where I come from, but what worries me is that I don't have control over it."

Marco decided not to ask 'how is that normal?' instead he nods.

"I have a problem and noone believes me." Tom concludes and he sinks in his seatt.

"Why are you here?" Marco asks, but Tom tilts his head unsure of how to answer.

"I mean, you are rich? right?" Marco says as he points to the destroyed cell phone.

"Yeah."

"This is not a rich city, or your home? What are you doing here?"

"I like the rain. I keeps me calm."

"The first thing you did when you got here was beat up that bench."

"Calmer. It keeps me calmer!" Tom corrects.

"Well. Thank you rain!" Marco says and for first time Tom smiles for a moment.

"It doesn't let me start fires, when it rains like this. I mean I could, but it's harder."

"You could?" Marco asks almost wanting to challenge the other, but he knew better.

"I. I want help Marco. I read the books, I count to ten, I get away to not say wrong things out of anger, I do those stupid breathing exercises daily, I tried...so why I'm not getting any better?"

"But you are!" Marco didn't have any standing to claim anything, but he was going to do it anyway. Tom gives him an incredulous look.

"You got away from the people you are mad at. You picked a location that will prevent you from doing damage...except for that bench. But you picked the bench, not me, which I'm thankful for, I'll feel bad if I hurt you-" Tom interrupts Marco by laughing, and Marco stares at him a little undignified.

"You don't know me Tom"

"Sorry, sorry." Tom says as he tries to stop laughing.

"You burned your anger until it was sadness, and then you chose to talk about it." Marco wants to congratulate himself for his great arguments.

"I-Well. yes, but-" Tom stays in silence for a while and he starts to smile, a very content smile, he eyes tear up for a moment but Marco doesn't think he will cry.

"You are right. I had."

"Now. What were you saying earlier about someone not…"

"OH! I'm over her but you know what? I dodged a bullet!" Marco laughs feeling the air lighter, he slides closer to Tom.

"Tell me!" Tom smirks, and Marco knew what kind of talk they were about to have. He's had it plenty of times with Star. The 'I hate my Ex' talk.

Tom had plenty to said about this 'Annabelle~' and Marco was used to prying in juicy gossip but refrained from asking questions.

"I knew she was a gold-digger! But there I go. 'I shouldn't judge people like that. Gee, I should at least had dinner'"

"I really doubt you talk like that."

"How would you know!" Tom playfully pushes Marco, then smooths the fabric of Marco's hoodie. "I would like if you actually knew, then at least I would have a way of contacting you."

Marco coughs trying not to choke with his own tongue. Marco really hopes that Tom was not trying to flirt with the guy who he just confessed having anger issues to, and has been complaining about his past and recent ended relationship for the past hour.

"You want my phone number?" Marco laughs not sure if Tom is joking or not. Didn't he disclose his heart because they will never see each other again?

"Yes." There was a way too playful smirk in Tom's lips, the rain doesn't seem to slow down at all and a big blue bus approaches the bus stop.

"You don't even have a phone anymore." Marco jokes but he reaches for his backpack, ready to search for paper and a pen.

"Marco!" Tom exclaims "I will get a new one just for you!" Marco laughs and as he takes his backpack. The bus opens its door.

"I need to go" Marco takes out a piece of paper and a pencil.

"It's not even nine! You are worst than cinderella!"

"What? I'm not a princess and you are not a prince of any-" Marco hears the bus moving.

"I need to go!" That was the last bus and there is no way he can make his parents drive all the way to pick him up. In a moment he had jumped in the almost moving bus.

Tom stays in the rain.

"I'm actually a prince" He wanted to let the other know, it felt like lying other wise.

He stays there looking to the blank piece of paper that Marco gave him.

"Sh*t!."