Stydia One Shots

The Red String of New York City

God, why does everything seem to go in the exact opposite way that Lydia planned?

As soon as things started to get good, and she was happy and beaming more than she ever was, all of it came crashing down on her like atlas' job of holding up the sky was passed onto her.

It's such a blessing and a curse to feel everything deeply. Lydia faced that one head on. When
Lydia sat outside the church, watching passing cars honk and scream angrily at the New York traffic. Her tears were dry now, only the occasional hiccup passed. Her hands were shaking, and she gripped the white wedding dress hard.

A cheering noise came from the right, and she turned to see the church doors open, her ex-fiancé walking away with a brand new bride. Even her mother and father attended the impromptu ceremony for Jackson and some random woman in the crowd that proclaimed her love to him. Attendees threw rice and clapped, happy for the newly weds. No one seemed to notice poor Lydia crying only twenty feet away.

She gripped her head in her hands, pulling and tugging on her strawberry blonde strands. A muffled sob erupted, and the tears came again. Lydia cramped her eyes shut and tried to get the images of Jackson sucking face with the mystery girl out of her head.

Suddenly, her hand shot forward, like something was pulling on it. The emerald green eyes opened and she saw a thin red piece of string tied to her pinky. Following the line, Lydia noticed it weaved through the New York streets, to a point that she couldn't see where the string was going. It was glowing, lighting up the path.

She glanced to her left and right, but no one seemed to notice the string. It yanked her forward, beconning Lydia to follow it. She was in a totally unstable state, so no matter how ridiculous it sounded, Lydia began to run.

The string disappeared into the knot it was tied in and she ran. She shoved through people, hearing heckles and rude shouts and she went. The string took a sudden right of the sidewalk and went diagonal through the traffic. Sensible Lydia said 'go to the nearest cross walk and keep following the string there,' but sensible Lydia wasn't there right now. She gathered up her wedding dress-now torn and dirty- and slipped out of the satin heels that were paining her feet.

Lydia looked right, then left before running into the traffic, weaving in between cars, even sliding across ones hood when there wasn't enough space for her to squeeze through. Her mad dash was greeted with a symphony of honks and "Hey, I'm driving here!"s. She kept her wedding dress bunched in one hand and her eyes on the string as she went, before finally landing on the pavement.

The string glided off to the left of her, so she joined the flow of traffic and kept following it. People passing by laughed and whispered about her, but Lydia's focus was too fixated on the string for her to notice. She kept walking and walking until eventually stepping down the stairs and into the subway station.

The string was heading north, so she hopped on the northern subway line and took a seat. The old lady next to her stared and handed her a tissue. Lydia just waved it off. She probably thought Lydia was crazy, just staring at the floor in a dirty and torn wedding dress.

The string suddenly veered left and the subway went right past it. She stood up abruptly and watched it hopelessly trail farther and farther away. Lydia tugged her hair and asked the sweet woman who offered her a tissue, "When's the next stop?"

The woman just blinked and said "Je ne parle pas englais." damn it,  Lydia cursed herself, probably should've payed more attention in French during grade school. She was jerked right of her feet when the train stopped, falling over and nearly flashing everyone in the car. She grunted, reaching out for the pole and tugged herself up, coming face to face with some smelly guy, covered and sweat.

Lydia just gave a small wave and smile, before turning around and running out the train car doors, pushing and shoving others past. The red glow went right, so did Lydia, and she padded up the stairs (more like dragged herself because chasing a mythical red string was hard.)

And just like that, she was back out into the open air again, but this time in the middle of Times Square. Fantastic. Some people threw fives and coins at her, thinking she was a street performer, but Lydia's mind was just thinking follow the god damn string.

She ran past the Rockefeller Christmas tree and the radio city music hall, hearing the rockettes music fill the streets. She ran past a pizza shop, past a celebrity and all their paparazzi. Lydia just kept her head down, constantly running and running, following the thing that may or may not change her life. Maybe it was just something tricking her eyes, but given what Lydia has been through today, what does she have to loose?

The girl was so caught up in running that she didn't realize the string took a U-ie a couple feet back. "You have got to be kidding me," Lydia whispered, turning herself around and yanking up her dress. She ran again, down the street and back into Times Square.

The string followed on the ground all the way up to a man, back turned to Lydia and looking at the big Christmas tree, in its shining, glittery glory. Lydia stopped and stared, before taking a deep breath, and shuffling towards him.

When she got to about 5 feet away, the man's finger jutted out and tugged toward her, where she saw the glowing red string tied in a knot on his pointer finger, just like hers. He turned around, looking Lydia up and down before seeing the string connecting them. The man looked about Lydia's age, with soft honey eyes and messy hair.

Lydia's eyes widened when she realized that she wasn't crazy, and the string wasn't fake, and Lydia could rest easy in a place that wasn't and insane asylum.

"Hi. I'm Lydia. You would not believe the day I've had."

A/N: lol this took FOREVER to finish. I started it forever ago, but I have TONS of ideas that I need to write. Hope you all liked this, happy new year!!❤️