BYRON'S SISTER Molly said, "Don't give up. You're a nice guy. You'll find somebody."

Byron sighed into his cell phone. "Nice guys finish last."

A cold wind blew through the above-ground train station that made him hunch his shoulders down lower. Byron stood under the platform's roof, but it was a chilly night in New York, and a light rain fell on the tracks.

He glanced around the station to see if anyone else overheard his conversation. No one else gave him even the slightest glance. He paused to linger on a beautiful blond woman standing across from him. She wore a light blue dress that hugged wide hips. It was slightly damp from the rain, clinging to small but rounded breasts. She looked at her cell phone but glanced up when a train rumbled by. He caught her eye for a moment and gave her his most winning smile.

She rolled her eyes as she looked down to glare at her phone again.

He sighed. He could only imagine how he would look to her.

Byron stood only five feet tall and weighed almost 300 pounds. That, plus the scar on his left cheek meant the blond's reaction was all too common. That's why he preferred living in the virtual world of video games.

Byron had lived in New York all his life, raised mostly by his mother after the death of his father. When he was ten years old, a fire had ravaged their small apartment. Byron had gotten his scar from fighting through the flames to save his younger sister, Molly. His father hadn't survived the blaze. Scarred and fatherless at a young age, Byron had come to avoid people as much as possible, preferring a fantasy world of sci-fi TV, movies and videogames.

He looked away and caught sight of an older man standing to his right wearing a faded Star Wars T-shirt and jeans. He leaned on a crutch with one hand while squinting at a book in the other. Even from this distance, Byron recognized the book as the third in the Dark HyperStar series by Edgar Michaels. The old man had good taste.

Byron shook himself. "Look, it's true. Girls don't want nice guys."

Molly snapped, "No, that's not true. You forget you're talking to a member of the female gender here? Yes, women want guys who are aggressive, who take charge. That doesn't mean you should be a caveman and hit girls over the head with a club. But women do want a guy who will take the first step, ask them out, flirt with them. You gotta be that guy if you want women to be attracted to you. You're too passive."

He sighed. The whole conversation had started when he told his sister about Clarissa, the girl at the call center where Byron worked who he'd been aching over for months. He finally got the courage to ask her out and she said those dreaded words, "I think of you as just a friend." He felt like an idiot. Molly was right. He had gotten himself stuck in the friend zone too many times.

"You also need to take risks," his sister continued. "You work in a boring call center. You never go anywhere or do anything except play video games. You should go out and have adventures in real life. Do exciting things. That'll make you more interesting to girls, and you'll enjoy your life more."

Byron was still about to protest when laughter drew his attention to a group of teenagers who burst out of the stairwell onto the train platform. The gang hooted and shoved each other as they ran along the concrete. Byron never understood why guys needed to pump each other up like that.

One of them froze and pointed at the blonde. "Holy shit, check out that hot bitch."

The gang all stopped their horseplay to look at the hot chick across the subway platform. They erupted in hooting, howling, and making jerking motions at their crotches. The woman kept her head down, pretending not to hear, even as her face flushed red.

"Hey, leave her alone, fellas." Byron said the words before he could even think.

The gang stopped and all shot him deadly glares.

One gang member with a red bandana over long red hair snarled. "What you say, bitch?"

Byron knew he was in trouble, but he didn't care. He couldn't stand by and watch any woman abused like that, even if she wouldn't give him the time of day. He tried to look tough but his voice cracked. "I said, leave her alone."

The redheaded gang member broke into frenzied laughter. "Why don't you mind your own business, bitch?"

"You heard him." Everyone looked over at the old man who scowled at the gang. "He said, leave the lady alone."

One of the gang charged over to the old man. "Shut the fuck up, old man, before we kick your fuckin' ass, too."

Even though the old man leaned on a crutch, he still managed to draw himself up to glare back at the gang. "Even with a bad leg, I'm not afraid of you. Now back off."

The redhead raised his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, okay, well, since you said so, we'll leave her alone."

He turned away and took a few steps.

He whipped around and shoved the old man hard on the chest.

The old man cried out as he tumbled off the platform.

"No!" Ignoring the laughing gang, Byron ran over to the edge of the platform.

He looked down to see the old man sprawled on the tracks, gasping.

That's when he heard the low rumble growing louder. A train.

He looked up at the train tunnel where a light grew brighter. The rumble came along with a distant whine of the train's horn.

The gang whooped as they went running up the stairs and out of sight, leaving Byron and the old man alone.

"Hang on!" Byron threw his backpack onto the train platform and jumped down onto the tracks.

His sneakers stumbled on the loose gravel between the wooden slats but he managed to right himself and lean down over the old man. "Can you stand up?"

The old man gasped and shook his head. "Just-just leave me."

"No, I won't leave you. Hang on."

The train's horn blew again and it sounded even louder than he expected. Byron didn't look up. He didn't want to know how fast the train was going, even as he slipped his arm under the old man. The old man felt surprisingly light as Byron stood up, raising him up to his feet.

It wasn't high enough. The old man struggled to reach up and hold the platform.

A hot wind blew over him from the train rushing towards them. The roar of the train on the tracks and the howling horn made it impossible to hear as the old man called out something. Byron dared to look and saw the train's light growing even closer than he thought.

Byron grit his teeth. He would die, but he wouldn't let this old man die with him.

He bent down, took hold of the old man's legs and leaned back hard. His legs and arms cried out in pain as he hoisted the old man up and onto the platform.

The train screeched with a noise that almost burst Byron's ears. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact, just hoping it wouldn't hurt too much when it came.

*

Byron didn't know what was more surprising when he opened his eyes, the fact that he looked up into the eyes of the old man smiling at him or the fact that he was alive to open his eyes at all.

Byron opened his eyes and looked around himself. He lay on the train platform. The train waited at the platform with a crowd surrounding him. He didn't see the gang or the blonde, but a police officer and what looked like a subway driver looked down at him.

The old man broke into a smile. "You're all right."

"What happened?" Byron sat up, and winced at a stab of pain.

"You saved me. The train stopped in time to avoid hitting you. That was a brave thing you did. Very brave." The old man put a hand on Byron's shoulder. "You deserve a better life."

"What are-I don't know what--"

"Never mind." The old man reached into a pocket of his pants and pulled out a small gray card. "I'd like to do you a favor. Go to the website on this card. Put in your address."

Byron hesitated for a moment before he took the card. He thought it might be a business card or the old man was offering him a job. Instead, the card just said "Venus Online" followed by a web address that seemed to be a random combination of letters and numbers.

Byron looked up at the old man who smiled back at him. "What's this for? What happens then?"

"Then, like I said, you live a better life." The old man stood up and shook Byron's hand. "An honor to meet you. Hopefully I'll see you again."

The old man wheeled around on his crutch and limped away, leaving Byron on the platform surrounded by the whispering crowd. When the old man had passed out of sight, Byron stared down at the card.

"A better life," Byron whispered.