We Are In Love In NYC

Saturday Morning

June 16, 2029

It was a Saturday morning in New York City as the city awakened to the possibilities of yet another great weekend bustling with hurried footsteps and honking taxis with the sun casting its golden rays across the towering skyscrapers and the concrete painted with canyons of warm yellow. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and bagels wafts through the air as the neighbourhood cafes opened their doors to locals and visitors alike who stepped in to pick up their order or just savoured the freedom of the weekend, indulging in sweet buttery pastry and the warm taste of coffee. The cream-coloured walls of the cafe with calligraphed art created a serene backdrop which was bathed in natural light that poured through the large window panes. The space was airy and inviting, casting a soft glow on the hard wooden floors with wooden chairs and tables strategically placed in different corners. The space attracted a diverse crowd - artists working in their sketchbooks, students lost in their studies, and friends engaged in animated conversations. The sound of laughter and loud conversations mixed with the melodic tunes of jazz from the street performer added a touch to the ambience.

Jordan Baker, a light-skinned 6 ft 2 quarterback of the North Carolina Panthers is seated at the edge of the cafe. The morning sunlight filtered through the window pane and played gently upon his features, accentuating his full beard trimmed perfectly to fit his chiselled face and his two-inch dark hair faded at the edges and tightly curled at the tips. He was dressed in a crisp white long-sleeved t-shirt, carefully rolled up to expose his toned forearms and the fabric clung subtly to his muscles. The delicate champagne gold chain rested on the nape of his neck and his look was completed with a pair of dark blue jeans perfectly tailored to his physique and an iconic blue and white Air Jordans which mirrored his impeccable taste. He indulged in a strawberry-glazed doughnut which was carefully balanced in his right hand while his left hand scrolled through his iPhone screen.

Beside him was Spencer James, a sturdy 5ft9 dark-skinned wide receiver for the North Carolina Panthers who was clad in a black denim jacket over a vibrant red tee and black jeans which showed off his athletic build. His outfit was paired with pristine white Air Jordans, a weighty Cartier gold watch that gleamed under the warm lights and a gold chain on his neck, hinting at his penchant for luxury. He savoured a sip of black coffee from his mug, the rich aroma mingling with the lively conversations and the gentle clatter of dishes. Intrigued by the sea of DMs from his Instagram, a grin of satisfaction played across his lips as he swiped through private pictures from admirers. His phone lit up with the caller ID "Shannia" and he felt a burst of excitement surge through him as the familiar iPhone ringtone reverberated through the cafe.

Shanniya.

He pressed the glowing green call button and a mix of guilt and mischief infused his voice as he spoke into the receiver.

"Hey," he greeted, his words carrying a weighty tone.

A peachy, raspy voice echoed from the other end, filled with a hint of disappointment. "You said you'd call."

"I know, baby," he responded, a tinge of regret evident in his voice, "but I'm out with my boy Jordan. I'll holla at you later, I promise."

"Say hi to Jordan for me," the voice continued with a touch of playfulness. "Tell him, my roommate, Sasha says hey. And Spencer, don't keep me waiting..." The voice lowered, taking on a more seductive tone. "You know how I love to punish bad boys."

"Oh...okay, baby. Whatever you say," he chuckled, hanging up the phone.

"Looks like you've gotten acquainted with the environment"

Turning his attention to his friend, he caught Jordan's gaze still focused on his phone.

"Well you would too if you didn't go all Pope on me," he said