When I pushed the entrance door open, it initially blocked. I rattled it and turned the knob, but nothing happened. Without further ado, I stuck my head in front of the small crack between the door and the wall in order to see what was going on out there. My eyes immediately wandered towards the ground and stared in disbelief at the thick layer of snow that stretched across the doorstep.

My body snapped back. As my eyes were now drifting to the bouquet of flowers between my fingers, I watched as my hands were gesturing how to hold it right in this filthy weather. In the end, I tried a Zayn impression by unbuttoning my coat and tucking it gently in my inside pocket. God, did my upper body now look out of shape.

Inhaling sharply and clenching my fists, I threw myself at the front door once more - and suddenly found myself standing amidst the British snow chaos. They clung to my collar, to the tip of my nose and even in the gaps between my eyelashes. I blinked a couple of times. It completely absorbed me and I didn't even know myself like that. I was actually not the kind of guy who stood there and admired the weather.

It was the perfect winter day for a winter wedding for a girl who was born in winter. Whilst I was caught up in my picture search scenario, I didn't even notice at first how the traffic next to me was honking and shouting at each other. I grunted, hm. The skin between my eyes tightened as I drew my eyebrows together, as if I could better understand the situation around me. A few policemen packed in high-visibility vests tried to control the traffic with their safety signs. But the drivers obviously weren't up for it and just honked even more.

It was a good day for not knowing how to drive. And so my feet carried me past the cars, past the policemen and past my desolate alley. Every now and then I shook a few snowflakes out of my hair. I had brushed them so nicely. I had brushed it so nicely that I couldn't let even the tip of my hair get bent - or even get all wet and untangled.

I hopped under niches, I ducked under the shadows of other passers-by. Against the currents, I weaved my way forward -always having one hand on the side of my coat where the flowers were hidden. Somewhere between the white and grey, I caught a glimpse of the underground sign. Determined, I headed straight for it, with no idea where I was going, let alone whether I was still on the platform or just wandering between the cars like those policemen did.

The closer I got to the station, the more the crowd stagnated. Here and there I gestured with my free hand against the shoulders of strangers, I apologized and forced myself forward without even looking at them. My feet skittered over the steps, not just because of the frost but more because masses of people made me feel uncomfortable. It was no different down at the platform. There was so much queuing that it was almost impossible to tell where one platform began and the other ended. And see, the people I had just managed to pass were now streaming past me.

"This just keeps getting better", I sighed, scanning the crowd for an empty spot. Meanwhile, I undid the waistband of my coat. For some reason, I decided I would look more important if my suit was showing through. But I was just another dot on the platform. I stretched my head up a little so I could read the scoreboard. I was standing on the right side and the next tube would be arriving in two minutes.

Somehow, the two minutes in my world felt like half an eternity. They consisted of watching as more and more people streamed down onto the platform, not letting myself be pushed from my spot and occasionally checking my mobile whether Gemma had texted me. Or Zayn, who had burnt down my kitchen whilst scrambling eggs. At some point, the underground train on the opposite side rolled in. I looked back at it. And how the crowd pushed up against one another and squeezed between the doors until they eventually got cut.

My body moved a little further towards that of a stranger. My body moved a little further towards that of a stranger. From behind me, the sound of the train blurred with the one now nearing us. As the tunnel resounded, the shoes around me stepped forwards. I also caught my gaze slide from the ground to the tracks. The subway was travelling so fast that I wouldn't have been too amazed if it had been driven by. But then, right in front of me - and a few foreign bodies in between - there was a bright red subway door.

A few silhouettes stepped out of the door. All the more of them pushed their way in with me. Eventually I came to a halt and reached for one of the plastic handles on the ceiling just before the subway rushed off again. The acceleration shoved me back and forth, even against other people's heads, and I earned some angry looks. I pretended not to notice, I was too mesmerized by the advertisements on the wall.

I read about upcoming movies that actually premiered half a year ago, unbeatable credit offerings and why London's subways were supposed to be so sustainable. Interesting, I hadn't known that yet.

That was how I occupied myself for the next couple of minutes. I needed to drive all the way to the final stop. Actually, I would drive to the last stop and from there my mum would pick me up and accompany me to the venue. She had already arrived at Gemma's the previous evening and helped her out. That was how I passed the next couple of minutes. I needed to drive all the way to the final stop. Actually, I would drive to the last stop and from there my mum would pick me up and accompany me to the venue. She had already arrived at Gemma's the previous evening and helped her out. My life would have been a lot easier if I had done the same, but the Christmas season was busy and my boss was more interested in that. I should be glad that I got this one day off at all, he had said.

At some point I could no longer bear the images on the subway wall and that is when I turned around and was quite astonished when I looked down only to a few single passengers sitting or standing and scrolling down their phones. And there were even empty seats here and there. Being caught up between loosening and tightening my grip, I decided to let go of my handle.

It was time for a break for me and for the flowers. I steered towards one bench where there were two empty seats side by side. On the one next to the stranger, I sat down. On the other, facing the wall and shielded from all the other people, I placed the bouquet of flowers. Completely over-cautious, I lifted it out of my coat with, again, both hands and positioned it so that its head could rest in the corner.

The gypsophila swayed as the underground rattled through the underground. ''We're almost there,'' I whispered, more to myself than to them. I comfortingly held up a few flower heads. Everything was pitch black and yet I believed I could see us speeding forwards. Every now and then, a dreary subway station emerged from the dark. The further we got to the outskirts, the more unloved the stations looked. Nobody was looking after them like me and Zayn were looking after the bouquet of flowers.There was no one to scatter sparkles with their fingertips wherever there were creases. And certainly no one who left hidden love notes. FML.