the city // dan howell

Part One // Bump

I slip out of my apartment and on to the streets of New York City, this one being a not too crowded road. With my wallet and phone in the back pocket of my black ripped skinny jeans, I'm all ready to go buy the last few cardboard boxes I need so I can finish packing. I'm going on a 5 month trip to London, for a photography opportunity. I photograph musicians at (and before/after) their concerts- action shots and photoshoots. A shit ton of bands are going on tour around this time of year, and a big music festival is in London in February. So, Im packing a few things and staying for just under half a year.
The idyllic scenery of the quiet side of the city life surrounds me as I walk to the small shops. They aren't particularly far, maybe ten minutes on foot. Even though it is cold and the clouds are towering, threatening snow at any moment, I could use the extra exercise. Besides, I have to walk, because I don't even own a car, or something like a bike or skateboard, and getting a taxi would take too much time. So, again, walking.
With a pivot of my foot, I twist around the corner, my body colliding into a foreign object just as big as me. A guy, who almost knocks me to the ground. He's tall, but only a few inches above me. The first thing that catches my eye is his sweater- a black, white, and green 'Attack On Titan' print. He's wearing black jeans, and it seems I'm catching onto the type of person he is.
He's just like me.

He attempts to steady me with his arm as I stumble backwards from the impact of our bump. He just barely missed my arm, his fingers just lightly feathering over my skin. It was an awkward encounter, making my cheeks flush and my mind feel slightly uncomfortable.
"I'm so sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be here- not that I know you- I meant that I didn't think there'd be a person there, there hasn't been anyone for the past couple of streets. I, uh.... sorry?" He mutters out. "Don't sweat it." I reply, plastering a sweet smile onto my face. As I give past him, my smile shatters on the floor and my eyes roll.
"Wait- um..." he calls out from behind me. The option of being a typical New Yorker and ignoring him is a usual go to, but it just didn't seem to fit this time. As if I knew the puzzle piece was supposed to go into the slot, but I just couldn't seem to place it in.

So, I whip around with the direction of the wind, and I glare. This guy could be trying to kill me for all I know. He doesn't look like a killer with his innocent features, but you never know.
Maybe I'm just too paranoid, maybe my chronic anxiety is getting the best of me.
"Im, um, lost." I sigh, the cold air creating fog out of the breath. I was just about to finish packing, which I've been procrastinating, and now I have to help this guy find his way. Obviously, an ideal day.
"And where are you meant to be?" I ask, slightly upset, giving it away in my tone of voice. I'm sure he catched on, but he's still persisting to talk to me. But, I don't necessarily know if I'm complaining about it anymore. With some thought put into it, I realize that I don't go out anywhere. I don't have any friends, I just... sit. I sit, and work to put my mind off of things. Walking around with Mr. Awkward could be a day off to myself. A treat.

"Like, Times Square, to meet my friend Phil?" I start laughing, and it's not a small giggle, I'm full on laughing. "Well, um, we're not in midtown anymore, this is the upper west side." He probably doesn't even know he's passed Times Square. "Ummm..." His face reads confusion, with his eyebrows furrowed and his twiddling fingers. Maybe he isn't a brutal murderer here to stab me. I think he really is lost.

"I don't, erm, know where I am. I must've gotten off at the wrong subway stop." That explains it. Typical mistake. The operator always sounds like he's underwater.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm willing to walk you back to the place you're meeting your friend at. It's just about a half hour walk, maybe more, depending on our walking pace." I reply, sighing again, watching the crystallized air disperse around me.
I'm not leading this guy to the subway and then waving him off, because he's going to get lost again, probably. I should walk him. Every little corner of this damn city is engraved into my mind, so we'll be fine. "Really? Thanks so much." His facial features relax. "You really are lucky I'd feel bad if I didn't lead you the way, because I was just about to buy a few essentials for a thing I'm doing. When I get back I'm definitely not gonna have the time anymore." That came out a bit as if I was trying to guilt trip him, which I really wasn't. I swear I didn't want to be snarky. "Oh, I'm sorry." He chuckles nervously, his eyelashes fluttering up and down rapidly.
I start to cross the road, him following close behind. "It's okay. Anyways, what's your name? I'm Tyde." I ask, tugging on the sleeves of my dark green My Chemical Romance sweatshirt. "Hi, Tyde. I'm Dan. I like your sweater." I slightly blush at his compliment as we walk down a long, straight road. "Thank you, Dan. I love yours too, AOT is my life. Anyways, You listen to them?" I compliment back, also asking a question with my response. Obviously he listens to them, he did compliment my sweater. Just carrying on the small talk, I guess? "Thanks.", he blushes slightly as well, (or maybe it's just him being cold), "But, yeah, I saw them live, actually." Live? I'd kill to see them in concert, take action shots with my camera. Like I said, I live to work.
Too late now, I suppose. "Wow, that's amazing. I'd love to see them live, but I guess that's not gonna happen." I hate the fact they've broken up- oh well. The thought of them no longer together pulls my heart down like a sinking ship, but I've learned to deal with it. Dan hums in agreement. "So, since we're here with each other for half an hour, tell me about yourself." I insist as I grab onto his shoulder, pushing us around a group of tourists. I don't even know why the tourists are over here looking at apartment buildings when they could be on the top of the Empire State Building or in one of the many museums we have. I let go of him, or more like, he shrugs himself away. Being a bit of a touchy person, I can make people uncomfortable. I open my mouth to apologize, but he begins to reply. "I don't know what to say. I'm Dan, obviously. But, like, Dan Howell. Er- I suck at talking. Sorry, I just.. I'm 23 and live in London, here in New York for the next 3 days. I listen to... rap. That sounded douche-y. Unless you listen to rap too- don't be offended, fuck.
Um, people always tell me I wear too much black, but it's how I feel confident. I'm a nerd at heart, and I have a bunch of silly fetishes I won't even begin to explain. And, that sounded pedophilic. Sorry.
I've always kinda wanted colorful hair but never had the courage to do it, I suppose. I have a radio show with my mate, Phil, and I'm a YouTuber. I'm also awkward as hell, if you hadn't noticed. Sorry.. I think I've said sorry at least 5 times. But, um, I think that covers it." A YouTuber? Interesting. And, London? Maybe he can return my favor and show me around when the time comes to leave in a week and a half. "Hm, you're a cool guy, aren't you Dan? Is your radio show your full time job?" I ask, since he didn't fully state his work. "Um, I guess you could kind of say that. I'm like, a full time YouTuber." Full time? He's gotta be pretty good at it. "You've got to be pretty popular then, ey?" I inquire, twisting the longest part of my hair in my fingers (which fell just above my chin, the longest part of my hair is a part of my fringe.) "Yeah, I think. I hate talking about how popular I am, but I do have quite a few million." I quietly clap. "Good job. That sounds like a gorgeous life." I smile widely, trying not to feel envious of how idealistic his life sounds. "Now tell me about yourself." He protests, pushing himself into my side as we get to the more crowded parts of the city. "Well, um, I'm Tyde Carter. I live... here. I'm 20 years old and I'm a full time photographer, which is working out pretty well. I'm actually visiting London in 9 days, staying there for about a good five months for some photoshoots of bands, and some live shots of different artists at their concerts, requested by their managers. I'm in love with mostly all music, particularly, you guessed it, rap, and pop punk. Hope that didn't sound douche-y. I like tea and sushi, sometimes together. I'm a secret movie fanatic, and baking and drawing are my side hobbies. I always really liked colored hair too, except I've obviously done it, hence why my hair is white and dark green. I think that covers it." I mock him, grinning more than before. "How interesting are you? Anyways, I think I should show you around London. Im feeling slightly guilty that you had to help me to Times Square." He almost asks, grabbing hold of my arm as someone or something trips him, sending him practically tumbling into the crowd of people. I laugh at him, realizing how awkward he actually is. Rolling my eyes, I grab his hand and surge through the crowd. Like I said, I'm a touchy person.
As soon as my eye catches his confused look, I slow down. "Before you trip again." I simply say, hoping that saying this would answer why we, complete strangers, were holding hands. He nods his head. "Have any plans for the rest of the day?" Dan asks me quietly, trying to carry on conversation. He still fiddles with his fingers, though his hand is locked in mine.
"Um, again, I was going to try and pack, but not anymore, so no, I don't have any plans." I reply, reminding him once again that I've been taken away from my little shops. But, meeting him did result in having a possible friend in London.
"Then why don't I give you something to do?"