"A New York Night"

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Lately, the life belonging to Norman Reedus had been absolutely crazy

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Lately, the life belonging to Norman Reedus had been absolutely crazy. The seventh season of The Walking Dead was in full swing and he was getting pulled in every direction possible. Norman's problem was that he could never say no to anyone. He was flying from coast to coast doing interviews, comic cons, and guest appearances all while trying to fit in time to see his son, Mingus. Every free minute he had Hideo Kojima was dragging him to the studio to work on Death Stranding. He wanted one day for himself. Just one damn day and unfortunately he couldn't see that happening anytime soon.

Tonight was a perfect example. Instead of finally having a night free he had told his buddy Balthazar Getty, that he would attend his wife's charity event. And to make it worse it was black tie. He hated black tie. So that's why he was standing in front of his bathroom mirror struggling to get the bow tie right. And it just wasn't happening. Norman gave up on straightening it. Everyone knew he was a bit quirky, so he'd go with a crooked tie. It was a totally Reedus thing to do.

Norman slipped his gold Rolex onto his left wrist and noticed it was past time for him to leave. He was late... as usual. He quickly grabbed his wallet, keys, and cigarettes and headed outside to find himself a taxi.

The drive through the busy New York streets was as slow as ever. As much as Norman didn't want to go tonight, he knew it was for a good cause. Rosetta, Balt's wife, spent a lot of her time raising money for worthy causes and this one was close to his heart. Every time the Make a Wish Foundation contacted him, he always said yes no matter what.

This was for Make a Wish tonight and he went to support both his friend and the kids. The kids got to him every damn time. They loved him as much as they loved Daryl Dixon and if a few hours of his time would make them happy and take their mind off being sick, even if it was just for a short while, it was so worth it to him.

The taxi switched lanes and ran a few red lights before he finally made it to the art gallery. Taxis were the best way to get around the city, but sometimes you took your life in your hands just to get to your destination. Norman paid the driver and walked over to the sidewalk that was in front of the entrance. He stood outside for a minute quickly lighting up a cigarette. He didn't know when he'd be able to take another smoke break so he wanted to get one in now.

After a few minutes, he finally sauntered inside and kept his eye out for Balthazar. They had been friends ever since he followed that chick to Los Angeles from Europe. He and the girl split pretty quickly, but his friendship with Balt lasted over twenty years. Norman nodded and said hello to a few people that he knew, but as usual most of the people were strangers to him, so he walked slowly through the gallery looking at the items that were on display and for sale.

Everything was high-end as this event was to bring in the big bucks. Prominent artists donated their paintings, photographs, or sculptures. Celebrities had done the same, including himself. He had sent Rosetta two photographs of his that he hadn't displayed anywhere yet. One was a photo of a rather scary looking vulture picking a dead animal on the side of the road with a bedraggled doll just off to the side. The other was of himself, but only he knew that the lone figure in the hoodie walking through the deserted yard of an abandoned factory was him. It was a black-and-white shot that showed the desolation of the moment. Sometimes that was how he felt. He knew he had everything he had ever wanted in his life- a great career, lots of money in the bank, more friends than he could ever count, and his son, but sometimes that wasn't enough. The loneliness he felt at times could be overwhelming and that's what the photo represented.

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