Subway Singer

He stands upon the subway platform naked. His only armor, his smile. A broad blinding thing it disarms you, almost stops you from seeing the sadness and fear behind his eyes. Almost.
An old man holding onto his dream, smiling and hoping you don’t see that scared boy. That boy wanting to make his mother proud. That boy that broke her heart. He steps up from the shadow, and pours out his pain.
People stop. They watch.
His song rings out through the platform. The edges of the platform seem to blur a bit, the dinginess fades. They are transported.
For a moment the armor is gone, thin eggshell that it was, and he is powerful.