Between Two New York Skies

New York! New York!

"Suzie! I'm off! I'll see you tomorrow!" With tousled light brown hair and tired eyes, Siobhan Addison collected her things from her desk and made her way to the exit of the office building.

She waved goodbye again at the lovely petite receptionist, Suzie, and mounted the elevator down to the first floor. Being a fresh history graduate, she was grateful to have landed a job in the heart of New York City.

Despite her old sourly boss, the constant nagging of her superior, and the not-so-subtle flirtation of her colleague, Carl, even if she had already turned him down almost once a day for the past six months — Siobhan was happy with her job. She had to be happy, she was broke and was paying off her student loans from a job with a minimum wage in a city with one of the highest standards of living. But she was in New York! That's what all that matters!

Not a lot of people were able to get a job in the Big Apple without any competition, but thanks to her Ivy League resume she was able to land a job in one of the biggest publishing companies in NYC even if her main role was mostly clerical work and had nothing to do with her History degree. She still loved the city.

Growing up in the suburbs of Arizona, Siobhan often dreamt of the big city and what would it be like to live there. Her dreams soared when she got admitted to Princeton, and at once she knew that her Princeton Diploma was the gate to the city of her dreams.

The city was crowded and loud, and at times suffocating, but it was exciting. There was something always happening in the streets of New York. There was an occasional paparazzi chasing a masked celebrity who was almost always frantically hailing a cab, there was always a new show to watch, whether, on Broadway or the movies, there was always a new pop-up restaurant to try. The possibilities were endless, and that was what drew Siobhan to this particular city.

Tiptoeing her way through the surge of the evening crowd, she ducked under a building, taking shelter from the rushing traffic of people. The place was an old deli but her favorite, and on the second floor was her residence.

"Ah, Piccola! Buonosera!" A man in his fifties sporting a red face and twinkling brown eyes, appeared behind the counter, chewing on a well-chewed toothpick, "What will it be this fine evening?"

Siobhan waved at the man with ease, he was her landlord, Vincent Amari, who also owned the best deli in the whole New York City.

"Just the usual please." She replied politely, after being her landlord for six months and seeing him every day, she still wasn't that comfortable with the loud but jolly man.

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Vincent set off to work still chewing vigorously on his toothpick. After wrapping up her sandwich that consisted of shredded romaine, mozzarella, salami, and prosciutto she paid and thanked him.

Siobhan was about to head up to her place when she heard Vincent speak up, "Going home soon, Piccola?"

She turned back with a sheepish grin and nodded, "Yeah, time to call it a night Vince."

He shook his head at her, "You're young, the night's young. When will you ever start to learn that working all the time won't do you any good?"

Siobhan smiled at him fondly and nodded, "I know, just not tonight, I'm kind of beat."

"Alright, Piccola. Whatever you say." He shook his shrugging with much emphasis just like what most Italians would do.

Traipsing up the stairs, Siobhan stopped on the first door on the right and swung the door open to her little haven. She lived in a stuffy 150 square feet apartment all by herself. Everything was small and compact and she didn't have much space, but she loved it. Every single inch of the place she adored, she was in New York City after all.

Without changing, she threw her shoes aside and sunk on her small sofa taking in the scent of home and comfort. Burying her face in one of the throw pillows that she had bought on a whim in Ikea and later regretted, Siobhan groaned.

Yes she loved New York, she loved the sights and the sounds, and even some of the people, but at the end of every day she just felt so drained. Straightening up she strolled across the room towards her small fridge and opened it.

Grabbing her bottle of cheap Merlot and a Sesame Street mug from her cupboard, she settled back on her sofa and poured herself a mugful of the intoxicating red liquid.

"So, what's for tonight?" She wondered aloud flicking on the screen of Netflix on her flatscreen TV that was a graduation present from her parents.

Sipping from her Elmo mug, she flicked through shows and finally settled on another episode of FRIENDS. Although she had already watched it twice, she couldn't stop rewatching it, but this time FRIENDS was now just some background noise to her because she was trying her hand in writing a novel.

Somehow she found that writing about things that she knew kept her mentally stable, and relaxed her mind.

"So what will it be tonight, Nicky?" She murmured to the fictional character written on her beaten up MacBook that she had ever since her freshman year, "Do we make you have another gunfight with the Romanos or is it about time you find someone to love?"

Taking another swig from her mug, she stretched her back and settled more comfortably on her one-and-a-half person sofa. She started to write strings of words to describe what Niccolo Salvatore, her main protagonist was doing.

"Nick rolled his dark eyes heavenwards and sighed in defeat, he knew he was in the wrong..." Siobhan murmured to herself busying herself on her laptop.

After writing three new paragraphs to her story as she described Niccolo again for the hundredth time, Siobhan stretched her neck and attempted to massage her tired shoulders. As she closed her eyes, the exact view of what Niccolo would look like appeared in front of her.

He would be, of course, full Italian with dark brown slick back hair, a pair of dark enigmatic eyes, tan but not-so-tan skin, and a five o'clock shaved face. His European features would be strong and prominent, with a sharp jawline, thick dark brows, and sharp cheekbones. Nicky gave her, a what she'd have imagined, a crooked cocky smile and wave before disappearing into the darkness.

Sighing wistfully, Siobhan opened her eyes and found her reflection staring back at her in the mirror at the back of her front door. She knew men like Nicky existed, but she also knew that men like Nicky would have supermodel girlfriends who were indescribably beautiful and were sponsored by some clothing brand on a daily basis.

Siobhan wasn't that bad herself. She had a pretty face with light brown hair and a pair of hazel eyes from her mother. She knew she was desirable at least to some level, or else she would have never been able to have dated George Finnigan in high school who was the most popular kid.

But that was in high school, she knew that George Finnigan had nothing to compare with the Nicky inside her head.

Taking another sip of her merlot, Siobhan shook her head and thought to herself that maybe it was better for her to live in her fantasy than date someone in real life who was not one bit like Nicky. Giving another wistful sigh, she continued her work.