Passion '3

New York City is the city where dreams are bound to come true.
But what happens when Emily Hawthorne realise that her dreams and love-life doesn't fit as perfectly together as she had hoped?


5. New York City, I'm Not Here To See You


One Week Later


“Where to?” The driver asked in English, with a heavy Spanish accent, as I slid into the backseat of the cab that I had called.

“261 East 10th Street, East Village,” I answered him, with a smile painted across my face. “New York?” He glanced at me in the rear-view mirror, “Mr. Malik,” He fast added. I smirked slightly, “New York it is.”



The streets of New York were crowded; even at night, but eventually – after almost two hours trip - I made it to East 10th Street. I hadn’t announced that I would be here and I knew that there was a chance that she was out, it was after all Friday night. When the cap stopped, I wrinkled my forehead in confusion, “Is this 261?”

He nodded, “Yes. 261, East 10th Street, East Village – right?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled and sceptically glanced out of the window. It took me some seconds before I spoke again, “Okay, sure, great! Do you take card?”



Outside the only source of light came from the street lampposts and the shop windows. I stood in front of the little blue door, squeezed in between an Organic Juice Bar and a closed shop that I couldn’t tell what exactly was. There was painted some dark green graffiti on the door, but I couldn’t quite read what it said. I stood there for some quite long minutes, taking everything in. After letting my eyes wander up and down the street and up and down the buildings, I came to realise that this place maybe was exactly the kind of place that I needed after a month of being on the road and in an out of expensive hotels. I swung my bag over my shoulder and walked up to the door, letting my finger run down the list of names on the side of the door. Hers was placed in the middle, but when I pressed the bottom there was no answer. I tried again, thinking that she possibly could be asleep - it was after all midnight. After trying three times, I decided to call her instead.

It took two ‘beeps’ before her familiar voice said; “Babe, can I call you later, I’m ou-“

“Well, you could, but the thing is that I am kinda-“ I started.

“What? Sorry, I can’t hear you!” She shouted, over the loud music in the background.

I chuckled a little and shook my head with a smile. I waited until the music faded out in the background and I could hear a door close behind her.

“Now I’m here, sorry – it was just so noisy!” She apologized. “Are you really busy?” I asked. “Depends on what you mean, I’m out, but no not really, why? Are you okay?” She all of sudden sounded worried.


Emily’s Point Of View


“Depends on what you mean, I’m out, but no not really, why? Are you okay?” I wrinkled my forehead and leaned against the wall. I could feel the bass through the walls, sending rhythm waves through my body. I could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line. I could tell from the sound of the wind, cars somewhere far away in the background and other voices, that he was outside. “Where are you?” I asked, when he didn’t say anything. “Well, I am standing in front of a blue door, the paint is kind of trashed and there is this graffiti on it that looks like names of men, does it sound familiar to you?”

It took less than a second for me to realise what he was talking about and in less than another a second I let out a high pitched sound, almost a scream. A sound that expressed way more excitement than I had believed was possible. “Y-You’re not shitting me?” I stuttered as I paced back and forth in the bathroom with a grin painted across my face. “Of course not!” He said, “I was kinda hoping that you would be home bu-“

“I’m on my way!” Was the last thing I said, before hanging up and sliding my phone down in my purse. The next thing I did was to almost run – walk as fast as possible in my stilettos – back into the club, and the couch where Josh, Samantha, Julian and Sarah were sitting, talking, laughing. They all looked up, “What where you going?” Samantha shouted. I just shook my head, still with a smile so big that my jaw hurt, “I’ve got to go!” I shouted back, and grabbed my jacket from the backrest. “What?!” Julian burst out, “Why?!”

“I’ll explain tomorrow! Or something!” I didn’t really feel like staying and explaining, not when what was waiting at home seemed to be so many times better.



Outside it wasn’t hard to catch a cab, they were literally everywhere on Friday nights, knowing that drunk people had to get home somehow and the subway wasn’t a safe choice if you were drunk. Not alone. When I jumped into the cab, I forget everything about money and that I never rode cabs because it was ridiculously expensive and if I spent my money on them, I would have to give up on so many other things. Such as the lunch I usually ate at different small cafés downtown on Sundays.


I gave the driver directions and tried to ignore his weird glances every time I giggled to myself, still overwhelmed by Zayn’s sudden arrival. It sure as hell was a surprise that I wouldn’t forget. Soon the cap pulled up on my street and only some seconds later I saw Zayn standing there with a bag over his shoulder, in a leather jacket with messy hair and a smile as soon as the cab arrived. I swung the door open and jumped out, before even thinking about paying. Zayn dropped the bag on the ground and let me run up to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and hug him tightly. He sneaked his hands around my waist and pulled my body closer to his. I hid my head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. We stood like that for several minutes, until the cab driver got impatient and pressed his horn. I fast ripped myself out of Zayn’s grip and looked at the cab.

“Shit,” I mumbled when it hit me that I had to pay the driver.

“What?” Zayn asked, looking down at me in confusion, before wrapping an around my waist, as if he needed to touch me.

“Nothing, I just need to pay – I literally never take cabs,” I whined and glanced up at him. “Sorry,” I mouthed and sneaked out of his grip for the second time in a minute. I didn’t get to take more than one step towards the cab, before he got in front of me and got to the cab before me. He bent down, speaking with the driver through the open window.

“Zayn, you rea-“ I started, but when he glanced at me over his shoulder, with challenging eyes, I shut my mouth.

He turned his eyes back to the driver and handed him his card. It didn’t take long before the cab disappeared around the corner, in the direction of Tompkins Square Park. Zayn once again turned around to face me.

“Gosh, you look beautiful,” He whispered before once again hugging me tightly. This time I lifted my head, sneaked my arms around his neck and pressed my lips gently to his.


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