Humans Of New York

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

The adventures of three young women as they navigate through life, love, and other stuff while in the city. Brooklyn dreams of being a successful author, but in the meantime, she's got to pay the bills. That means working as a barista while working on her writing in her off time. Addy has always longed to be a famous designer, but she needs to find a way to break onto the scene. Has her big break finally come? Shea loves to shop, but she wants more. She just needs to find it.

I'm 29 years old, nearly 30 and so far, my sister and Photography have been my life and soul. Ever since I stepped foot in my first darkroom during my Sophomore year I always had a hunch that this would be my true passion. Since I held my first camera. Set up my first tripod, captured my first photo and filmed my first piece. I just knew that this is what I wanted to do. My life has been a complicated mess since I was 10 years old. My life was thrown away by my parents because I was a burden to them, I had a pen pal who I vented my anger out on for years yet he had become a huge part of my life. I haven't had a serious relationship in...well...ever and It's not every day that you find a man wanting to talk to you...granted, this man is the one who spilt his coffee down me the first time we met and from then on he became the Baine of my existence. I live in Texas City, Houston and I love what I do, the freedom it gives me being behind a camera but it also comes with a price when you least expect it. My life was complicated enough but when I vent out on a secret to this man, my feelings towards him become stir crazy and a whirlwind of emotions. One's I didn't want in the first place because 2 weeks before meeting said man...I was applying for a year long fellow ship abroad. A once in a lifetime opportunity to go to one of Spain's most explored and cultured cities - Barcelona.

Everyone in college has gone home for winter break. A guy from the next class shares a photo in our group chat, bragging about his Christmas gift—ten thousand and one 100-dollar bills. The entire group chat goes wild. I jump on the bandwagon, sending a couple of envious memes before tapping on the photo to zoom in. Ten thousand and one consecutive bills. But my eyes lock onto the family portrait peeking out from the edge of the frame. The woman in the photo… is Mom? I dial her number immediately. "Hey Mom, what Christmas gift are you going to get me this year?" On the other end of the line, her laughter falters. Then she replies casually, "Same as always—200 dollars. It's just a formality anyway. Why do you ask?" I force a smile and tell her it's nothing. I hang up and immediately hail a cab to that guy's house.

I came to Chicago with my friend to visit her boyfriend. Three days in, her boyfriend said he'd show us "something fun." The car kept driving—farther and farther out. By the time we realized something was wrong, we were locked inside an abandoned factory. My friend was gone. Her boyfriend shoved me into a room and threw me a line: "Your friend sold you for twenty grand. Stay put and wait for arrangements." I scanned the room. A few men in black suits leaned against the doorway. Silver-gray pins on their chests. Shield-shaped. Dark red thorns. An inverted dagger. The family crest of Caleb Richardson—don of the New York mafia. I was held captive by him for three years. I barely escaped with my life— And now I've been handed right back to him.

As I'm unable to get a ticket for my return trip after the Thanksgiving holiday, I specifically booked a first-class seat home. Just as I find my seat, I see an unruly child jumping around on it. I patiently smile and say, "Kid, this is my seat. Where is your seat?" He makes a face at me. "It's mine now, old hag!" I grab him by the collar of his shirt, wanting to lift him out of the seat. At that moment, a woman's piercing voice sounds behind me. "What are you doing? Let go of my son!" I release my grip and say as gently as possible, "Please control your child. This is my seat." Suddenly, she raises her voice. "He's just a child! Can't you, as an adult, give way to him? You're young and dressed decently. How can you have no compassion at all?" I'm so angered by this distorted reasoning that I laugh. "If you're so compassionate, why didn't you spend the money to buy your child a first-class seat?"