Chapter 1
Balancing the heavy bag on my shoulder as I leant forward, I shoved the spare key into the lock and turned it, hearing the telltale click as the door unlocked. Straightening, I opened the apartment door and was immediately greeted with Ezra's voice calling out from his bedroom.
"I left some pasta in the fridge," he told me.
I grinned, shutting the front door behind me before holding a hand against the wall as I kicked out of my uncomfortable heels. "You're a saint!" I called back.
I pulled the heavy camera bag from my sore shoulder and set it on the little kitchen table, rubbing the ache it had left behind absently as I crossed the small space to the fridge. I pulled the door open, my eyes widening happily when I spotted the bowl of spaghetti covered with a piece of plastic wrap. Hungrily, I pulled it out, ripping off the covering before opening a nearby drawer and finding a fork. Wasting no time, I swirled a forkful of pasta and shoved it in my mouth, my eyes closing as I chewed.
"You didn't even heat it up first?" Ezra's horrified voice rang through the kitchen.
My eyes flew open and I saw my brother standing at the end of the hallway with a disturbed expression on his face as he watched me eat. His nose wrinkled further as he saw me shovel another forkful of pasta ungracefully into my mouth.
I shrugged a shoulder at him. "What?" I asked around the mouthful of pasta. "I'm starving."
"You're an animal," he said with a chuckle.
I kicked his shin as he stepped beside me, reaching up to pull out a glass before filling it in the sink. He set it on the counter next to me and gestured to it with his head.
"Drink," he ordered. "I know you don't get a chance to drink nearly enough during wedding days."
I swallowed another bite of pasta before mumbling, "Or eat enough."
I picked up the glass, ignoring how Ezra was staring at me from his place beside me at the kitchen counter, and chugged the entire glass in one go. He rolled his eyes and picked up the empty glass, returning to the sink and refilling it for me as I swirled a massive amount of pasta onto my fork again.
"Animal," he muttered in amusement.
"Shut up," I responded as I chewed.
"So you're finally gracing Hell’s Kitchen with your presence tonight?" my brother asked as he got himself a glass of water.
I continued shoveling the pasta down, rolling my eyes. "I told you I was coming out tonight. Marci invited me the other week." I chewed quickly as I brought the now empty bowl to the sink, rinsing it out thoroughly before shooting Ezra a look over my shoulder. "Dishwasher dirty?" I asked him. When he nodded, I pulled it open, placing the bowl inside. "I'm going to Josie’s tonight to see everyone. It's been…too long." I closed the dishwasher, straightening and glancing at him. "You were invited too."
I headed over to my camera bag, grabbing the lipstick from an outside pouch and ignoring the curious expression on his face. I made my way down the short hall to the bathroom, flipping on the light and checking my appearance in the mirror.
"We haven't been to Josie’s in forever," Ezra said, appearing abruptly as he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. "And why the hell would Marci Stahl be at Josie’s?"
I paused, shooting him a pointed look through his bathroom mirror as I touched up my makeup. "She's dating Foggy now, remember? And that was Foggy and Matt's go-to bar." My eyes darted back to myself in the mirror, capping the dark red lipstick and running my hand through the dark curls that had fallen from a long day of work. "She said the four of them go every Wednesday, Friday, and most Saturday nights when I ran into her the other weekend at Cece's wedding. But I've been too booked the past two weeks to meet them there."
He shot me another curious look, arms crossing over his chest. "You hate going out after working a full wedding, though."
"Yeah, well," I said, turning around with a huff and leaning my hip against the bathroom counter. "I haven't seen them in forever. I've been so busy building up this business ever since I moved out of Hell's Kitchen that I've neglected my social life. I miss Karen, Marci, Foggy, and Matt. And," I told him firmly, "I'm sleeping on your couch tonight. So I don't have to go far after."
Ezra's expression suddenly perked up, his back straightening. "Wait, Karen's going to be there?" he asked immediately.
I rolled my eyes, making my way past him and slapping his shoulder as I went. "Yeah, lover boy. Maybe don't get too drunk tonight and ruin your time with her, huh?"
I heard Ezra scoff as he followed me down the hallway towards the front door. "You're one to talk."
I frowned, turning on my heel in the space between the kitchen and living room, shooting him a glare. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
He rolled his eyes at me now, a grin on his lips. "Oh come off it already. You've had a crush on Matt Murdock since day one," Ezra pointed out. "If you hadn't been so off and on with that asshole Justin you'd have jumped Matt long ago." He smirked, stepping closer to me to ruffle my hair and laughing when I roughly swatted him away.
I frowned as I tried to fix the hair Ezra had just mussed, feeling my heart lurch at the mention of my ex. It was not a topic I liked to dwell on.
"Yeah well, he's old news," I said solemnly, trying to slip my heels back on. I winced as the first one cut back into my already sore and aching foot. "And Matt and I are just friends. Always have been." I slipped my other foot into the black heel and closed my eyes, cringing at the pain. I let out a slow breath before turning back to my brother, watching as he slid his worn out Van's on his feet. "And you know I'm not dating right now."
"Right," he said, raising two fingers on each hand to air quote, "you're taking 'a sabbatical from all men.' I give it another month, Em." He pointed a firm finger at my chest. "And that's being generous."
I slapped his hand away roughly, annoyed. "Let's just go."
I grabbed the small purse I had tucked into my camera bag for tonight, slipping it over my head before turning to the front door where Ezra was waiting with it open. We walked down the hallway together toward the elevator at the end. The back of my heels dug further into my feet with each step but I tried to ignore the pain. The moment I pushed the elevator call button, Ezra slung his arm over my shoulder.
"Sorry about bringing up Justin," he apologized softly. "I know it's a…sore spot. I shouldn’t have." I grunted grumpily in response and he lightly shook my shoulders. "You going to be okay?"
I turned my head, eyeing him for a moment. He was staring back at me with worry in his eyes, his mouth pulling down at one corner. Ever since he'd gotten the call when I was in the hospital a few months back he had noticed something was off about me despite my attempts to hide it.
"Yeah," I lied easily as the elevator doors opened. His arm slipped back to his side as I stepped in with him following close beside me. Pushing the button for the first floor, I told him, "My biggest concern right now is walking around the corner in these heels without accidentally slicing a foot off."
Ezra glanced down at my choice of footwear before shaking his head. "I will never understand why you women torture yourselves."
"For fashion," I told him simply. "And it makes our asses look good."
He snorted, slinging his arm back over my shoulders as the doors opened and we exited, making our way towards the apartment building’s main doors.
"Well your ass is going to stick out like a sore thumb at Josie’s dressed like that," he snickered.
I elbowed him in the ribs, grinning when he hissed in a sharp breath. "I just finished working a thirteen hour day, on my feet in heels, toting around heavy camera equipment, at the beck and call of a bridezilla," I retorted testily. "I haven't had a night out for fun in months and I didn't have time or energy to drag my ass to the Upper West Side for a change of clothes."
"You and your fancy apartment," Ezra grumbled, rubbing his rib with his free hand where I had elbowed him.
"You're just jealous," I shot back.
"Certainly not of your rent," he mumbled. "Should be illegal to charge that."
"Yeah, well, people apparently pay a lot for wedding photographers in the city," I muttered.
"And you're working yourself to death," he told me, pulling the building's main doors open and letting me pass through first. "Seriously, Em, do you even sleep anymore?"
"I'm fine," I answered sharply.
The sharpness of my words had abruptly cut off all conversation as we began the three minute walk around the corner to Josie’s. The night had cooled off a bit and the slight breeze felt good as we walked. I was glad for the silence, even if it was a bit tense, as we walked towards the bar together. I wasn't in the mood for his questions and scrutiny after the long day I'd had.
The truth was I wasn't fine. I hadn't been fine since I'd left Hell's Kitchen eight months ago. I was working myself to death but it was intentional. I was a level of tired I didn't know could exist because of the break up I'd had with Justin four months ago. I didn't like to let my brain have a chance to think or remember anything about what had happened between us back then, but I was admittedly quickly becoming too overwhelmed with work.
I hadn’t told Ezra much about the break up either because I hadn't been able to bring myself to fully talk about it yet. If I thought about things too closely, my chest felt like it was constricting and the permanent ache there would only intensify. There was a knot in my stomach that wouldn't disappear, either; it sat heavy as a constant reminder that twisted and pulled anytime I thought about that night.
So I didn't want to think about that tonight; I didn’t want to have an anxiety attack because I’d had enough of them alone in my apartment over the past few months. I missed my friends and I was hoping some semblance of normalcy would have me feeling more like myself–or at least better.
When Josie’s came into view just a minute later, the red neon sign on the window out front casting its glow on our faces, I smiled softly. We’d spent many a night here over the past couple of years, whether it was just Karen, Matt, Foggy and I, or whether Ezra and Marci had joined us as well. We’d come here to celebrate many personal victories or drown out our stresses and struggles. For a long time it had been like a second home to me.
Ezra, ever the gentleman, stepped ahead of me, holding the door to the bar open. The sound of classic rock and the faint smell of beer and mold hit my nose the moment I stepped inside. The dim light cast from multiple rope lights around the ceiling and scattered neon signs cast a hazy glow around Ezra and I as we made our way straight to the bar, my heels clicking loud and out of place against the sticky cement floor.
Josie spotted us immediately, placing a beer roughly in front of a man sitting at one of the stools before she wandered over. She smirked at me, a little glint behind her eye.
“Haven’t seen your smartass around here in awhile,” she said with a laugh.
I grinned, leaning my arms against the counter before cringing, having accidentally leaned into a damp spot. Josie slid some napkins towards me as I removed my arms and I gratefully wiped the booze off of me.
“Forgot how charming you could be,” I teased.
She shot me a wink before her eyes passed over the pair of us. “What are you drinking tonight?”
“Two beers, the usual,” I told her, slapping some cash on the counter.
She grabbed the cash and wandered back down the bar to get our drinks. A loud noise almost akin to a squeal erupted behind me and I jumped, turning on the spot and causing the back of one of my heels to painfully dig further into my foot.
“Marci said you might come out tonight!” Karen shrieked excitedly.
She immediately darted forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and roughly pulling me in for a hug. My hands flew up around her waist to return the gesture. When she pulled back she was smiling wide before her attention shifted to Ezra who was handing me my beer.
“Ezra, we haven’t seen you out here in awhile either,” she said, lightly slapping his arm.
I swore I saw my brother blush as he half-shrugged. “Didn’t know you all still came out here,” he told her.
“Of course we do!” she said.
She grabbed me by the arm and began dragging me across the bar to a table where I could see Foggy seated beside Marci and who I assumed from the back of their head was Matt next to what must have been Karen’s seat. Marci was bouncing up and down in her seat, waving excitedly as I made my way over. Foggy shot me a large smile when our eyes locked as Karen continued to drag me over. When we were a table away, Marci slid off of her chair and rushed over towards me, pulling me into a hug much like Karen had.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to come back out and see us!” she told me.
A pang of guilt hit me hard at her words. “Sorry I just…I’ve been literally swamped with work. I just finished a thirteen hour day but decided I’d come out since I was going to be passing through Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Thirteen hours?” Marci asked, entirely appalled at the idea.
“Shit, take my seat,” Karen said, ushering me into the chair beside Matt.
I slid into the wooden chair, grateful I was no longer standing on my very tired and sore feet. Matt turned towards me in his seat, a small smile on his lips as his knees lightly bumped mine under the table. My heart gave a little lurch in my chest at the sight of him before me. He still looked good, even with the few cuts along his face, as he sat there in a dark gray tee-shirt that hugged his arms and chest just right as his red-tinted glasses stared back at me.
“It’s been awhile,” Matt said, his voice soft.
I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as I nodded. “Yeah,” I admitted, voice low. “I uh…maybe underestimated what I was getting myself into.”
“So what’s life like in the Upper West Side?” Foggy cut in, leaning dramatically forward on the table towards me.
“Shit, you must have a nice apartment,” Marci said as she resumed her place beside Foggy.
I frowned, realizing I’d never had a chance to invite them out after I’d moved. What kind of shit friend had I been lately? Guilt sat heavy in my gut next to the beer I began drinking down.
“Yeah I never really did a housewarming, did I?” I mused lightly, setting my bottle back onto the table.
“No, but you still can,” Marci pointed out.
I noticed the narrowed glare Karen sent to her from her place beside my brother at the end of the table. I caught Marci mouth back a ‘what?’ in response.
“You know what, I’ll set something up,” I told them. “My schedule clears up a bit in a few weeks. I can stop being such a shit friend.”
“You haven’t been a shit fri–”
I held up a hand, immediately cutting Foggy short. “Yeah, I have,” I told him. “And I’m sorry. If I hadn’t run into Marci the other week at that wedding, I don’t know if I’d have seen you all again. Felt like…too much time passed for me to reach out.”
“Absolutely not,” Karen said firmly, shaking her head. “You’ll always be one of us.”
“One of us, one of us,” Foggy jokingly chanted from across the table.
Marci sharply turned her head, shooting him a look. I grinned, my eyes darting down to the table as my fingers fiddled with the beer bottle in front of me.
“If it makes you all feel any better,” Ezra said, holding his beer to his lips, “I’m her brother and I barely saw her too.”
I shot him a look, my eyes narrowed.
“So I take it the photography is going well?” Matt asked from beside me, catching my attention.
“Too well,” I told him. “I had a hard time saying no at first if I had dates available. Ended up way overbooking myself. Still trying to learn what a healthy work-life balance looks like but I think in a few weeks, when my weddings thin out to a realistic amount, I’ll be in a better place. Work-wise at least.”
Foggy cleared his throat, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass he was drinking out of as he spoke. “Soo,” he began, dragging the word out hesitantly, “are you and…Justin still a thing?”
My eyes immediately dropped back down to my hands on the table, fingers spinning the bottle nervously in front of me. “No,” I answered quietly before grabbing the bottle and taking a long drink.
I saw Foggy glance at Matt beside me before he straightened up further, his eyebrows creasing together. “You mean, for real this time?” he asked.
I swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile on my face as I met his eyes. “Yeah,” I answered simply. “So how long have you and Marci been an actual thing?” I asked, very obviously trying to change the subject.
The two turned to look at each other, the look of pure adoration and affection in their eyes making my heart hurt. I tried to keep the smile on my face as Foggy flung his arm over her shoulder and turned back to me.
“A few months now,” he told me.
“We already sort of were,” Marci said, “So I figured I’d finally let him take me on an official first date.”
“She hasn’t been able to get rid of me since,” Foggy finished for her, a proud smile on his face.
“I had a feeling it was just a matter of time,” I told them, smiling lightly. My attention shifted as I turned a bit in my chair, my eyes darting between Karen and Matt. “What about you two?” I asked. “Any relationships I missed out on?”
Karen shook her head, her eyes briefly glancing to my brother beside her as her cheeks reddened. My eyebrow rose curiously at the sight. Was she interested in him too? She'd never mentioned that to me before.
“No dates,” she told me with a slight shrug. “Just been busy with The Bulletin. Haven’t had time to meet anyone.”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I love your articles,” I told her quickly. “I search for them in every issue. I think you found your calling with journalism.”
She blushed, murmuring a ‘thanks’ before my eyes slowly dropped to Matt beside me. He was tapping a finger against his beer bottle.
“And, what about you, Matt?” I asked, my voice sounding a little tight as I asked.
His head turned in my direction, his glasses reflecting my own anxious face back to me. He smiled a little before he shook his head lightly.
“No,” he told me. “It’s uh…it’s just me.”
Something about the way he responded made my heart twist a little. But I didn’t have much time to dwell on that before Foggy was loudly cutting in.
“He’s a perpetual bachelor, the bastard,” he told me.
I nodded, a pained smile on my face as I said, “Well I guess some things never change, right?”
The corner of Matt’s lips turned down as he averted his attention back to his drink. I caught the curious arch of Ezra’s brow behind Matt’s now downturned head. He shot me a pointed look before his eyes roughly shifted to Matt and back to me. I very slightly shook my head, swiftly turning my attention to my drink.
The night carried on as we all caught up, ordering more rounds of drinks for the table as time wore on. Eventually it began to feel like I’d never disappeared for eight months with how much we all were suddenly joking, laughing, and teasing one another. It felt good. It was the most I’d laughed in a long time.
“Well I need to get home,” Karen eventually said as she placed her empty beer bottle on the table. “I’ve got an article to submit in the morning.”
“I’ll walk you,” Ezra quickly offered, downing his drink.
I grinned, watching the blush rise to Karen’s cheeks as she accepted his offer.
“You’re just going to let your sister walk home this late at night alone?” Foggy teased him.
Ezra shrugged, waving a hand at me. “She can walk around a corner, right?”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured Foggy. “If anyone gets too close I’ll stab them with one of my heels.”
Ezra wandered towards me, clapping a hand to my back proudly and saying, “That’s my baby sis.”
I slapped his hand off with a laugh, shooing him away after Karen. I mouthed ‘good luck’ to him and shot him a thumbs up as he left. When they were out of sight, I turned back, taking another pull of my beer.
“They’re totally hooking up,” Marci said abruptly.
I choked on the drink I was taking, coughing for a moment. Matt’s large hand patted me roughly on the back.
“Gross, that’s my brother,” I said when I’d regained my composure.
“And Karen’s been into him for forever,” she said, downing the rest of her drink. “Just like you–”
My eyes went wide and I kicked her quickly under the table. She abruptly stopped, her own eyes going wide. I shook my head as Foggy suddenly narrowed his eyes between the two of us.
“You know what? I’m drunk,” she said suddenly, turning to Foggy. “We should probably go home, babe.”
"Uh, yeah, sure…" he said apprehensively as his eyes slid over to Matt.
I cleared my throat quickly as I said, "I should probably get back to Ez's. I'm pretty tired after today anyway."
I picked up my third beer, downing it quickly before placing the empty bottle on the table and sliding off of the chair. I winced the moment my feet touched the floor, the fresh cuts reopening on my feet as I hissed.
Matt was on his feet quickly, somehow finding my elbow and gripping it lightly in his hand. His head dipped towards me as he asked, "You okay?"
"Just my feet killing me," I told him, still grimacing. "It's fine."
Marci rounded the table, pulling me into a hug as Matt released my arm. "Thanks for coming out. I missed you, girl." She leaned closer to my ear, whispering, "Sorry I almost outed your secret."
I pulled back, smiling sheepishly at her. "I missed you too. I'll have to come out again."
"Yes, we're here most of the week with the ladies," Foggy told me, throwing his arm back around Marci. "Sometimes Matt and I swing by after work though, if you're ever around." He shot me a serious look as he said, "So don't be a stranger."
I gave Foggy a hug goodbye and promised I'd be back out again soon. When he and Marci took off, I was very aware of the fact that I was now alone with Matt. I bit my lip nervously, feeling my palms sweat as Matt turned towards me, a small smile on his face.
"I guess–"
"I can–"
We both spoke at the same time, pausing awkwardly when we realized the other was about to speak. I tucked a strand of hair nervously behind my ear, feeling more awkward around Matt after months of having not seen him.
"I was going to say I could walk you home," Matt said, an almost shy smile on his face as he scratched the back of his neck with one hand.
"Oh, uh, you don't have to," I assured him. "It's literally around the corner."
"I'd feel better if you didn't walk alone this late at night," he told me.
"Okay," I agreed in a soft voice.
Matt grabbed his folded up cane from off of the table. I watched silently as he unfolded it before I stepped towards him, wordlessly grabbing his hand and bringing it to the inside of my elbow as I had done so many times in the past. For some reason this time I was more aware of the warmth of his hand as it wrapped around my bare skin.
My eyes flew to his mouth as his tongue darted out along his lips, wetting them.
“You ready to go?” he asked me.
I had to force my eyes away from his lips, clearing my throat lightly. “Yeah, I uh…didn’t bring much,” I told him.
I began to lead him out of the bar, the sound of his cane tapping along the floor almost matching the sound of my heels as we walked. My palms were beginning to sweat as his shoulder bumped up against mine when we exited through the door.
"I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable," Matt said as we stepped outside.
I glanced over at him as he turned to face me, his head tilted a bit in my direction. I couldn't quite make out his expression behind the dark glasses.
"What?" I asked him, brows furrowing at his comment.
"You seem uncomfortable," he told me.
I hesitated, my eyes darting to the sidewalk as we walked. With how bad my feet hurt, I was sure there was going to be blood in my shoes. I'd need to leave a comfortable pair in the future at Ez's.
"I just…feel like an ass," I admitted uncomfortably after a moment.
"Why?" he asked curiously.
"I should have stayed in touch with you all," I began, the words abruptly spewing out of my mouth. And suddenly I was spilling my guts to Matt like no time had passed at all; he had somehow always had that effect on me since I'd known him. "I've been a shit friend. I've just…I've had a lot going on and I've been intentionally keeping myself busy to avoid having to deal with anything else in my life. And you were one of my best friends and you didn't deserve that, and now here you are being nice and wanting to walk me to my brother's place even though it's literally a three minute walk and I just…I don't deserve that."
Matt paused abruptly on the sidewalk, causing me to come to a stop at his side. I saw his brows dip down beneath his glasses as he looked back at me. The streetlights above us cast his face in a warm wash of yellow and I became all too aware of his hand holding my arm again.
"Sorry, that was a lot," I apologized softly.
He raised his hand with his cane, adjusting the glasses briefly on his face as he nodded, chuckling a little.
"Yeah…just a bit," he said. "I wished you'd stayed in touch," he admitted. "We all do. We missed you. …I missed you, Em."
"I'm sorry," I apologized again.
He hesitated as he looked towards me, the hand holding the crook of my elbow giving a light squeeze. I felt the knot in my stomach tighten, suddenly sure Matt could see straight through me.
"Are you okay, Em?" he asked carefully.
My eyes dropped down to the space between us on the sidewalk, the ache in my chest coming back.
"Yeah," I told him–a blatant lie.
A deep frown crossed his lips as his head dipped down towards the sidewalk. He stared down at the pavement for a moment before he shook his head suddenly.
"Don't lie to me, Em," he said, his head rising back up. "You've been off all night. There's an edge to your voice that's not usually there. I’ve known you long enough to know when somethings wrong. You know you can always talk to me, right?"
"It's just stress," I told him quickly. "I'm fine."
He didn't answer, instead he stared at me with a pained expression on his face for a long while. Eventually I exhaled sharply, unsure of how he always knew when I was lying about anything important.
"Fine, I'm not okay," I admitted quietly. "But I don't want to talk about it."
The frown remained a permanent fixture on his face as he pulled me forward, tugging on my elbow. We began walking again and I spotted Ezra's building just a few buildings over. Matt was silent as we neared it and I eventually had to pull him to a stop.
"This is Ez's," I told him softly.
Matt removed his hand from my arm, holding his cane between both of his hands now as he looked towards me.
"You know you used to tell me everything," he said, hurt in his tone. “We were best friends.”
I swallowed hard, looking at the building behind him. It was too hard to look at his face right now, not with the way he was looking at me.
"It's not…not a conversation I want to have right now, Matt," I told him weakly.
He nodded slowly, taking a step back. My heart hurt at the visible space he placed between us.
"Do you…want me to get you a cab?" I asked him awkwardly.
"No, I know my way home from here," he assured me. "I guess I'll see you next time you come out, Em."
"Yeah," I said, voice strained.
"Goodnight, Em," he said, turning and heading off, cane tapping along the sidewalk as he went.
"Goodnight, Matt," I whispered at his back.
I watched him walk down to the end of the block, my heart sinking further in my chest as he went. With a huff I eventually turned and headed into the building, making my way up to Ezra's apartment.
I had tossed and turned for an hour on Ezra's uncomfortable leather sofa after he had returned from walking Karen home. His faint snores were audible down the hall; he'd fallen asleep almost the moment he'd lain down. He'd always been like that though, always falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Ever since we were kids. I'd often wondered what it was like to be able to fall asleep so easily, to not have your thoughts keep you awake for hours on end and leave you exhausted the next day. Day after day after day.
With a huff, I gave up on sleep for now, the usual thoughts plaguing my mind now mingled with the look of hurt on Matt's face before he'd gone home. Throwing the blanket off of my legs I sat up, frowning at how sore and worn out my body felt from a long day of work. Carrying cameras around my neck that weighed five pounds for an entire thirteen hour day always did a number on my neck and back, add in being in heels for the same length of time and my body was exhausted. Doing double or triple weddings like that back to back left me damn near dead by the end of the weekend.
My arms were shaking slightly as I tried to rub the stiffness out of my lower back for a moment. It was pointless though, the only thing that ever helped was a few days of editing photos and answering emails and phone calls at my desk before doing it all again the next weekend. Thankfully I was at least coming to a point in my calendar where I'd gotten smart and stopped booking every available day someone asked for and instead just booked what I needed to make a living. Working myself to the bone wasn't sustainable. And it was starting to make me feel worse.
I rose to my feet and made my way to the front door, unlocking it and stepping barefoot into the hall. Just to my right was a small set of stairs that led to the roof access; many a drunken night crashing at my brother's place had found me sitting up on his roof. Tonight was no different.
I sat down on the very edge of the building, one leg dangling off the side of the roof while the other was folded up, my chin resting lightly on my knee as I wrapped my arms around it. I was grateful that I'd left an extra pair of comfortable cotton shorts and a tank top at Ez's to sleep in in the past. The dress had been getting uncomfortable.
I sighed, closing my eyes and listening to the faint sounds of the city below me. Somehow Hell's Kitchen was louder at night than the Upper West Side, though my apartment building was just barely a few blocks from the Kitchen.
There was honking in the distance on the streets below, and if I listened close enough I could hear faint drunken yelling. I could hear the soft whoosh of traffic below from the cars and taxis on the busy summer Saturday night. Even the wind was louder up on the rooftop, the sound a low whistle in my ear.
"You know it's not safe to sit so close to the edge," a deep voice cut through the night.
My eyes opened, immediately recognizing the gravelly voice even though I hadn't heard it in a long while. I glanced up to my right and spotted Daredevil in his red suit staring down at me. He looked exactly the same as the last time I saw him. His mouth was turned up at one corner in a small smile as he stared back down at me.
I snorted faintly, turning my attention back to the street below me. "Not really too concerned about that," I answered him.
"Because you know I'd catch you if you fall?" he asked, an almost flirtatious teasing in his tone as if it hadn't been months since the last time we'd seen each other.
I hummed softly in response, shaking my head slightly. "No," I muttered. "I just don't really care if I do."
I could see him stiffen out of the corner of my eye at my words. It was a moment before he sat down beside me, dangling both of his feet over the ledge as he positioned himself a couple of feet from my side.
"That's a bit dark," he pointed out.
"Says the guy in a devil suit that spends his evenings hitting people," I quipped back.
"Fair point," he agreed. "So what's going on? I haven't seen you in Hell’s Kitchen for a while."
"Because I moved just out of Hell’s Kitchen a few months back," I told him, eyes still on the street far below us. "Technically the Upper West Side, but it's only a few blocks from your…territory."
"Sounds fancy," he mused.
"It is."
"But you aren't happy?" he asked, his head turning towards me.
I exhaled a long breath, closing my eyes. I could feel the ache in my chest and the knot in my stomach a little too well for my liking right now.
"You deduce that from a lonely woman sitting on the ledge of a four story building saying she doesn't care if she falls?" I shot back, though there wasn't much edge to my tone.
"That and the slow, erratic beat of your heart," he told me.
I rolled my eyes. "You know I forgot you had weird, bat-like senses or whatever."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Just heightened, not bat-like."
"Still weird though," I teased him.
Turning my head on my knee to face him, I caught the faint smile on his mouth. That mouth was all I could ever see of his face, whether he'd been in his man in black get-up or the new red suit he'd had for a bit. I'd always thought he had a beautiful mouth but it's all I'd ever seen–besides the muscles through the previous tight black shirt he used to wear.
It had been just over two years since the first run-in I'd had with him when he'd saved me. An asshole had cornered me in a dark alley one night after I’d been drunkenly bar hopping with friends. Daredevil–or the man in the mask at the time–had swooped in and beat the guy bloody before the man had a chance to do much. After that, he'd somehow often found me on and off over the weeks and months that followed. It usually helped that I had often been on Ez's or my previous apartment building’s rooftop. Apparently rooftops were sort of The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen's thing and he frequented them often. Yet somehow, despite the many late night run-ins and conversations, and occasional flirting, he'd never told me much of anything about himself, other than a little bit about his heightened senses.
"What's on your mind?" he asked softly, his voice bringing me back to the present.
"Too much," I whispered back, noticing the slight dip in the corner of his mouth.
He was quiet for a bit and I turned my attention back to the street below us. Gently I swung my dangling leg back and forth, focusing on the feel of the wind rushing past my bare skin. It was refreshing, calming even.
"You want to talk about it?" he suddenly asked.
I ran a hand over my face roughly, rubbing at my stinging eyes a few times. I didn't really want to, but somehow talking to him had always been easier than talking to anyone else over the years. Something about discussing my issues with a masked man who knew nothing else about me just made it easier to open up.
"Don't you have something better to be doing tonight?" I countered.
I heard the stiff material of his armor groan a bit as he shrugged. "I think helping a friend is pretty important," he told me.
I snorted an unamused laugh at his words. He'd never referred to me as a friend before.
"I don't even know your name," I told him, turning back to look at him. "I've never seen your face. And I haven't even spoken to you in months. How am I your friend?"
He rested his hands behind him, leaning back on his elbows looking way too relaxed for someone whose legs were dangling off the edge of a building. A pained smile crossed his mouth, drawing my eye to the movement.
"I've always considered you a friend," he told me, his voice strained. "I don't tell you who I am to keep you safe…and you've never minded too much before."
I watched him for a moment longer, curious if it was coincidence that he'd stumbled on me the one night I was in Hell’s Kitchen or if he'd somehow known. The ache in my chest tightened abruptly and I glanced down at my foot dangling off the edge of the building.
"You ever feel like it's too much?" I asked him quietly.
He shifted beside me, turning so he was facing me and pulling his legs up from the side of the building. He crossed his legs in front of himself, resting his elbows on them as he leaned forward towards me.
"Ever feel like what’s too much?" he asked gently.
"Everything," I breathed out. I ran a hand through my hair a few times anxiously. "I feel like I'm just drowning lately. Like I got swept into a river by some damn current and I keep getting pulled under. And every time I feel like I might be reaching the surface of…whatever this is, I get pulled back under. Just…drowning. In work and stress and…pain."
"Your…boyfriend again?" he asked hesitantly.
A bitter laugh left me as I rubbed at the tears that had started running down my face. Everyone had hated Justin, and told me profusely as much after we’d broken up the very first time. Yet somehow I’d been a blind idiot thinking I was in love, too dumb to see how poorly he treated me until too much had already happened.
"We've been broken up for four months now. For good, this time," I confessed.
"What'd he do?" he asked, his voice suddenly dark and dangerous.
I glanced back at him, staring into the dark red eyes of his helmet. He looked angry even though all I could see was the thin line of his mouth and the tightness of his jaw.
"He uh…cheated," I admitted quietly. "Multiple times with stupid groupies.” I rolled my eyes. He played guitar in a shitty band, ‘groupie’ was a generous term. “He’d been lying to me about his cocaine use, too. Some things were…were going on between us,” I said nervously, having already felt like I was telling him more than I’d told even Ezra. “One night he got…mean. I don’t know if it was the drugs or the withdrawal," I told him, my voice suddenly sounding so weak even to my own ears.
"He put his hands on you?" the Devil snarled beside me, his lip curled back in a sneer as his shoulders abruptly squared.
"Once," I answered, my voice barely audible over the wind. "I was…I had been…"
The words wouldn't come out, getting stuck in my throat. The knot in my stomach twisted, the ache in my chest constricting tighter. A choked sob came out of my mouth instead as my throat closed tight.
Very slowly the Devil slid closer to me on the rooftop, the sound of something unfastening reached my ears before I felt a gentle weight wrap around my shoulders almost tentatively. When I opened my eyes, I saw he'd removed both of his gloves, having laid them beside him on the rooftop. He was carefully pulling me into him as I cried, tears freely streaming down my face. I resisted only briefly before I let him pull me into him; my face buried into the leather against his neck, his hands holding my upper back. My eyes clamped shut again, more tears pouring down my cheeks as I sobbed against his neck. The smell of him this close was comforting and somehow vaguely familiar, but I was too far gone to place it as I cried.
“I’m not ready to talk about it,” I choked out as I cried. My head shook roughly back and forth against him as images from that night flashed before my mind. "I can't…I can't," I repeated.
“Hey, that’s alright,” he told me, his lips moving against the top of my head. His tone was gentler than I’d often heard him use and my hands immediately wrapped around his back, clinging desperately to him. “You don’t have to.”
For a long while I cried into the neck of his suit, feeling the warmth of his actual hands rubbing soothingly along my back as he just held me silently. His presence alone was somehow comforting and slowly I managed to gather myself, pushing the thoughts back down.
"I lied to one of my best friends tonight," I quietly admitted when my crying had calmed. "I hurt him. And I feel terrible."
"I'm sure your friend will understand," he told me softly.
"I feel like an ass," I mumbled, wiping one of my hands across my face.
"You're not an ass," he assured me.
I sighed, pulling reluctantly away from Daredevil's surprisingly warm embrace. I could see moisture glistening on his armor from where I'd cried all over him.
"Sorry I uh…" I began awkwardly, gesturing to the wetness around his neck, "cried all over you."
He huffed a laugh, a small grin spreading on his mouth. One of his hands rose, lightly brushing across the dampness where my tears had fallen. His mouth twitched slightly but the grin ultimately remained.
"It's just tears," he told me. "I don't mind. Are you feeling any better at least?"
My head turned, glancing down at the street below. I rubbed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to wipe away the remaining wetness. I knew I couldn't lie, not to him, because he had told me before he could tell when someone did.
"No," I admitted softly. "But it's late and you should probably get back to doing gymnastics and hitting bad guys or whatever you do."
He stared at me for a long moment, a slight smirk on his lips at my words, but I could see his body was tense. Eventually he reached for his gloves beside him and I watched as he slowly pulled them back on. He gracefully rose to his feet before bending down, extending his gloved hand to me. I sniffled before accepting it, letting him pull me up. I stumbled for a moment on my sore feet, Daredevil’s gentle hands ghosting lightly along my hips for a brief second to steady me before they were gone.
“You should get some sleep,” he told me, that gravely tone back.
“Right,” I said awkwardly, biting my lip.
“Until next time,” he said, walking backwards towards the opposite ledge of the building.
At the last second, I watched as he spun and jumped, landing impressively on the next building’s roof. Then he took off at a run, easily jumping over obstacles, until he was out of sight and I was alone again.
With a dejected sigh I went back downstairs to Ezra’s apartment, slipping in and locking the door behind me. A short while later I managed to fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket and trying to trick myself it was someone else’s arms.
When I woke in the morning, Ezra was still asleep. I’d written him a quick note before changing back into my dress and shoes, grabbing my camera bag and heading outside. I hailed a taxi and found myself riding back to my apartment just before seven in the morning. Traffic was light since it was Sunday and it only took twelve minutes for me to get home.
As I opened the door to my apartment, I was greeted with the sight of my open kitchen and living room, with their large windows that gave me a decent view of the city a few floors below. Everything was neat and clean. Lots of white and crisp, modern lines. A stark contrast to what I’d had when I was in Hell’s Kitchen by far. But as I stood just in the entry of my apartment, all I could see in it was everything that I was feeling reflected back at me–everything that Hell’s Kitchen had never been.
Cold. Lonely. Empty.