The Moment | hs au

Hurricane

The next day, in the gloomy atomosphere, Margo took a taxi to Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn. Bed-Stuy's homes were built together in long string along the road, and Margo admired how photogenic they were.

The day prior to this still ached in the back of Margo's brain, she couldn't forget how it felt to really be alone. She always had Liam to fall back on, but now she knows the kind of asshole he is.

But now, she thinks, she may have a friend in Harry. He seems so genuine and kind, and Margo just wants to get to know him. She remembers he gets off work at five o'clock today, and she intends on being there when they close. Hopefully he'll ask her to hang out tonight, she's afraid to be completely alone otherwise.

She's walking around Bed-Stuy in the crisp autumn air when she begins to remember all the illegal things she used to do on these streets. She thought it was cool back when she was a teenager, but now she knows it just makes you a punk, and not the good kind. Hell, she hasn't had a drink ever since-

"Excuse me, miss? Are you local?" A greying man approaches her, looking rather distraught. The winds picks up and gives a decent blow.

"Yeah, Manhattan, but yeah." Margo responds, clicking off her camera and facing the stranger. He pushes his glasses up and looks around at the surrounding neighborhood.

"My taxi driver just let me off here, I'm trying to meet my wife at Macy's department store, is that around here?" He asks, frightened that he's in a bad part of town.

"Oh man, you're on the wrong side of New York, my friend. We're in Brooklyn right now, you need to get to Midtown, near Times Square." Margo replies. She can see his heart sink, and suddenly Margo feels obliged to help him out. She pulls out her phone to show him a map.

"How can I get there?"

"Well, taxis usually don't venture too far out here that are willing to go into Midtown. How's this: I'll walk with you to the Brooklyn Bridge, I need to get back there anyway, then I'll hail a cabbie for you."

"I spent all my money on the taxi ride out here." He sighs, rubbing his hands together from the sudden chill in the air.

"I'll pay, it's the least I can do. I feel bad about your bogus taxi."

"He was too hard to understand, I figured I should just get out." He replies, smiling a hopeful smile.

Margo and Jim, as she soon found out his name, walk together towards Manhattan. Margo continues to snap pictures and he tells her a little bit about himself and his family. Soon enough, Margo gets him a taxi to the right place and pays in advance. He thanks her dozens of times, and Margo feels content. She too gets a taxi, to take her back to her loft on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.

Peanut purrs when Margo returns. It's about three o'clock I'm the afternoon when she gets there. She puts her laptop in her backpack and trades her sweatshirt for a proper jacket. Slipping a beanie on her messy hair, she again walks out the door, towards the coffee shop.

She walks straight though Central Park, ignoring the curious stares. She doesn't look like the friendly folk and that's fine, she's used to people watching her suspiciously like she's about to start a riot or something.

Past Central Park, the coffee shop, Auntie May's, invites her forward. Once she passes through the glass door, she feels warm again. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans overwhelms her senses. She could fall asleep so something as sweet-smelling as this.

Margo spots Harry taking an order behind the bar. He looks up when the door jingles, and smiles when he sees who it is.

Margo finds a small table in the corner of the shop. She takes out her laptop and plugs it in, setting her camera and extra memory card on the table beside her.

She has about an hour and half before the shop closes, so Margo plans on using it to work. After sorting through her new photos and editing them, she adds them to her websites' portfolio. Fortunately, she gets enough money through selling her photos online along with actual prints that she can make a steady living. Besides electronically selling her pictures, she can sell actual canvases and matted frames to costumes through a company in Queens. She gets enough online traffic to pay the bills, and she has such a variety of shots, it's impossible for anyone to not find one they like.

"Do you want something then, Margo?" Harry comes to her table and asks her.

"Something warm, I literally don't care what it is." She responds, chuckling a little.

"Small?"

"Whatever." She shrugs. Harry nods and his bun does a little sway. He's wearing a tan sweater and black jeans with the same questionable footwear as the other day. Margo smiles.

He comes back a minute later, holding a small cup of something steaming.

"I hope you like mocha." He says, gently setting the cup far away from Margo's electronics.

"I do, thank you."

A few moments of silence pass, then Harry seems to say what he's been thinking and what Margo's been hoping for, "Do you want to hang out tonight. I don't really care what we do, I just want to... Hang out... Tonight." He finishes.

"I'd love that. It's supposed to rain so maybe he can get a taxi back to my place and watch a movie or something. I can wait here until you close." The words are out of Margo's mouth before she can properly think them through.

"Yes, that's great, let's do that." Harry says. Margo notices a pink tint to his cheeks.

Harry walks back to the cash register to wait on the growing line of agitated customers.

Margo starts to second-guess herself. Was her house dirty? Does she really want this guy to know where she lives, he could be a murderer, or rapist, or something? No, she tells herself. He's only been kind to Margo, there's nothing to worry about. He just wants to hang out, not peel her skin off and wear it as pajamas. That'd be creepy. Anyway.

The minutes tick away like seconds and soon enough, Margo realizes she's the only person left. The rain started a few minutes ago, but hopefully it'll lighten up before they head out.

Thunder rolls, looks like the rain is staying.

Harry comes out of the kitchen, putting on a jacket and checking his phone, "Ready to go?"

"Yes."