Forevermore (On Hold)

2. Yellow Cabs and City Lights

Chapter 1

I guess New York is just eternally beautiful.

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I dial my mom immediately after 8 hours of rough flight. Using my current provider, I'm pretty sure it's going to cost a lot, so I'll just keep it short.

"Sweetie," she sounds tired, "are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I am. So I've just arrived safely. I couldn't talk more. Love you, mom!" I definitely sound as tired as her.
"I know, love you more. Bye!" She hangs up in within a second.

Great thing my mother had booked me the first class ticket, so everything I'll have to do is to claim my luggage at the administration desk. Or else I'll have to claim my baggage in forever. I stretch my back for a moment and put on my pink leather jacket I took from my backpack. It has already started snowing here, and it's freezing. Like literally freezing. Then make my way to the administration desk afterward.

There is not much to tell about the John F. Kennedy. Just the typical modern airport. I look around as I wait for my turn, even at 5 in the morning, this place seems alive. Crowded and full of life.

Before I realize, there's only a man left in front of me. He's wearing an old brown jacket and a pair of baggy jeans. His hair looks untreated and most of them are white. Such a pity for a man with a first class ticket in his hands. Without saying any words he moves a few steps to his left and takes his suitcase then leaves. I reckon it's my turn, I step across the yellow line and hand my passport and ticket.

A new stamp for my passport. Aha!

The man-in-a-suit behind the desk clearly has black circles beneath his eyes. My obvious assumption is that he has been working overnight. Poor man.

"Good morning," he greets me suavely, trying to sound polite and cheerful.

"Morning," I crook a little smile for him.

"High school, huh?" He says as he scans the barcode at the ticket and fills out some blanks at the papers.

"I guess so," I shrug nonchalantly and thank him after he hands me back my passport, then step to my left side and pull my yellow suitcase from the just-another-machine-I-didn't-know-what-it-is-called machine and leave.

After a few minutes, perhaps 15 minutes or less of walking without certainty and getting lost, I finally step out from the building of the enormous John F. Kennedy and am approached by an officer, another one with a similar suit.

"A cab, miss?" He offers immediately after he seems to have my attention.
"Yes, please," I nod stiffly, realizing how much colder it is outside the building.
"Please wait for a moment, it won't take long," he says then leaves me. He walks for a few meters then calls out a cab, the famous yellow cab.

The cab's engine starts then the driver drives the cab near me.
"Thank you," I flash a smile after he opens the door for me, then I go inside the cab.

"Good morning," he says as he looks at his rearview mirror that's just above the left side of his head.
"Good morning. Take me to this address, please?" I ask him as I hand him a paper with a my mother's scribble written on it.

169 Sixth Avenue
Manhattan, New York City

"Ah, the Avenue of Americas," he returns the paper, he sounds delighted. "It's only fifteen miles, but the traffic sucks,"

"Whoa, really?" I can hear myself frustrated, right now the only thing I can think is to go to sleep immediately after I unlock the apartment or whatever's door.

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be a really long drive, though," I notice the raspy voice and the dark skin of his. He's a middle-aged man with a clear morning spirit.