This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Some chapters may include flashbacks which are written in italics. 

This book is intended for a mature audience. It contains adult themes, coarse language, sexual content and some violence. 

  **

Life after college seemed almost unbearable. 

Most days my mind would wander and I'd ponder how I was even surviving in the streets of Queens, New York at this point, or what exactly would it take for me to throw in the towel. I'd ask myself, what will push you to pack up all your belongings, drive back to Chicago and simply give up on this far fetched dream of yours? And yet every time I was left with an answer that was completely unfulfilling. I always told myself it would be the moment I realize that I'm miserable, yet I'm still here. I swore it'd be the day I could barely pay my bills or had a drop of gas in my tank and yet, still here. The deal breaker for sure would be when I surpassed the 'appropriate' time frame to have my shit together, but once again...you bet.

It's been a little over a year; literally two months outside my stupid little time frame since I received the most meaningless object I've ever possessed from New York University, and I have nothing but an anxiety filled nine to five desk job and a bunch of past due Sallie Mae letters to show for it. To make matters worse, I'm not even working in the field I majored in, not that I care to, let alone even dabbling in anything that is related to music and writing: my far fetched dream. I guess this is typical for the average college graduate, but for myself I imagined it to be a bit different. I've always seen more for myself and I suppose that alone was what kept me here, merely hope.

The day that hope disappeared though, so would I.

It's always funny to me when I reminiscence on when I first relocated to New York City. I had my future planned out. There were a list of goals, some more demanding than others that I had written down and let settle in my head of what I wanted for myself. But somewhere between the end of my junior year and that same summer I realized I no longer had a purpose in being in college. I ended up settling on a communications degree after switching between three other majors, and all over the course of two years. In my heart I knew this wasn't what I wanted, but I forced myself to believe it was in order to somewhat feel satisfied with the time I wasted. That seemed to be the only way I could sleep at night and ease all these thoughts of failure I had concocted in my head.

"Ry. Riley?"  After blinking a few times, I looked up from the corner of my laptop screen and placed my attention on something elsewhere. Something other than a space clouded by regrets and repetitive what-ifs.

"Huh? Oh. I-I'm sorry, I was just..." I shook my head dismissively as my words dwindled off, my daydream leaving me flustered yet again. "I wa--"

"I know." Donovan interrupted as he gave me a knowing smirk. "Maybe if you actually did some work on that laptop of yours you wouldn't think so hard. You do this almost everyday and it's not healthy." I knew where this conversation was headed and any other day I would disregard it, but today I needed it. "You can't keep letting life control you Ry, you need to get a grip and control it yourself."

I stared at him for a second and nodded in agreement. "I know, you're right. It's just hard sometimes Donny. It's not supposed to be like this. I didn't come to New York to live a life I could have easily got in Chicago; a life I honestly don't even want either way."

"Then change it." He said with a blasé shrug.

"How though?" I uttered, making an attempt to challenge his easily given advice.

"When you came here you had a plan right? Well then look back at where you feel you went wrong. Take it as a lesson and push forward." He instructed. "You're dwelling on the stuff you can't change Riley. If you want to be a songwriter or just a writer like you say you do, then do it. You're in Queens, surrounded by boroughs that your favorite artists came from. If they made it then you can too."

I bit down into my bottom lip as he spoke and allowed his words to sink in as they resonated to me. Since I met Donovan a few years ago he seemed to be the only person that believed my dream was conceivable. He spoke with a certainty that I admired and appreciated. Somewhere down the road I began doubting myself and my purpose, but Donovan was sure to remind me that despite how long, I would stop doubting and start doing - and I believed him.

Pushing my glasses up from the position they seemed to slide to on my nose, I looked up at him and smiled. My apprehension still existed, it always would but at this moment it had settled enough for me to breathe. "Thanks Donny."

"No problem. I just want to see you make it, that's all." He disclosed and leaned forward to grab his cup of espresso.

As I leaned back into my chair, my eyes wandered to the windows of the coffee shop we seemed to always shelter ourselves in for hours after work. I had to take a second to admire life outside my constant worrying. I had to try and appreciate it for what it was; an air of stress, happiness, possibilities and other obscure things. This was also another commonality for me after a long day working as an assistant in the offices of Mount Sinai, these few well needed hours to sit and compose myself as well as my feet. Today was a busy yet unpleasant day, thank God a Friday, but I was grateful for the weekend I had ahead of me.

"Hey, are you still coming with me to that club tomorrow?" I asked, hoping Donovan hadn't forgot about our plans that had been arranged for some time now.

"Yeah, you said your cousin is performing right?"

"Well, that's what he claims. I knew he was a rapper, but apparently he's in there now," I said, referring to 'there' as the large music industry that wasn't promised to everyone. "I just hope he's not gassing himself up and there's nothing to be gassed up about."

"See there you go, just a dream killer. You need to do better woman!" We both laughed as I closed my laptop and began packing up the rest of my belongings.

"I'm just saying. Supposedly he's been hanging around some guy he met a long time ago who also raps. They're both working with some other guys to make a label or something. I don't know, Damon makes it sound so promising."

"Well I guess we'll see what this is all about tomorrow then, huh?"

"Eh, I guess we will." I guess we will...

                       ----------------------------

"What'd you bring for dinner?"

It hadn't even been ten seconds since I set foot in our two bedroom brick walled apartment and this girl was already asking about food. No greeting or hug, no nothing. Just inquiries about food that I didn't have. I tossed my keys on the living room table as I contemplated ignoring her and laid my bag on the couch, releasing my arm from the weight of my belongings that had once burdened it. I was hoping when I came home from a long day of work my best friend would have found dinner for us both, but that's what I get for hoping. Hope, please don't fail me now.

"Nothing, not a got damn thing." I finally let up to hiss. "You know, you're no good Les. You've been here since five and you mean to tell me you couldn't get us any food?" She let out a long exaggerated sigh as she hopped on top of our steal counter and crossed her legs.

"You would have been too had you come home right after your slave shift and didn't waste money on stale ass coffee with Donovan. So don't start with me." She sassed as I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen, smelling something that was indeed freshly cooked food.

"Oh girl please, don't you start with me. You know the routine, Fridays are your days to get dinner. Don't make this about me."

"Yeah whatever bum," She muttered, crossing her arms across her chest. "There's chicken alfredo on the stove. You're welcome." I smiled widely and made my way to the stove before grabbing a plate from the overhead cupboard. I knew this girl like the back of my hand, well the majority of the time. So I knew there was food somewhere in this kitchen waiting to be eaten. She just wanted to be a pest.

She was Leslie, my other best friend. One thing we shared in common aside from our apartment was the fact neither of us were content with the lifestyle we currently lived in. After graduation we both found jobs that could pay the bills as well as rent, but neither of us cared for them. Unlike myself, Leslie wasn't quite sure what she wanted to pursue in life. College was just in her words, "something to do in order to get my parents off my case". As smart as a girl she is, she managed to pull through but still found nothing that spiked her interest. Even with us being complete opposites her free spirited attitude managed to keep the energy in our place on a positive note and keep me balanced.

After fixing my plate the two of us sat in the kitchen and discussed how our days went as well as this show my cousin kept reminding us both about in each of his annoying voice mails. As if on key, I groaned and looked over at my phone ringing beside Leslie. Assuming she had read and knew the look on my face, she picked my phone up and answered, placing it on speaker.

"Speak to me!" I hailed loud enough for him to hear me and the annoyance bubbling in my tone.

"Riley, you didn't forget right?"  I sat my plate down on my lap and dug into several pieces of pasta. Starving was not even the word for the growl my stomach was releasing.

"For the eleventh time Damon, your flight gets here at nine a.m., you're coming in on Delta and I need to be there. Am I wrong?"

"Nah, you're not. I was ju--"

"You were just checking." I grumbled, completing his sentence. "I get it, I do but I'm not a child anymore Dame. I think I can remember to pick you up and on time."

"Alright, I'll leave you alone then." There was a short pause after as I waited for something smart to come out his mouth. That was just how he operated. "See you tomorrow?" Leslie and I both shook our heads at the lingering question mark he managed to place at the end of his sentence. Almost as if he was still unsure about me, as if he didn't trust I would come through with this favor.

"Really?! Get off my phone, goodbye Damon." I jeered as my anger clearly amused him. Damon snickered into my ear until Leslie pressed the end button and locked my phone. "I can't stand him.

"Oh please, you love him. Your cousin is something else though." She said, getting up to make another plate for herself. "What's he doing coming to Queens anyways? Surprised he knows about any other place besides Chicago."  I shrugged not really knowing what exactly to expect tomorrow night.

Despite my cousin and I being very close, and by that I mean there were a many a times people thought we were siblings, I still had no good idea of what was really going on with this music career of his. Sometimes I think he didn't speak too much on it in fear that things wouldn't come through and he'd be embarrassed. How? I did the same thing with my own life, and Damon and I are one and the same most of the time. It was understandable, but at the same time I would've like to known more in order to answer my friend's constant questions about him.

"A show I guess. Girl, I really don't know I'm just being a supportive relative." I admitted.

"That's horrible." Leslie shot back. "Well, since I got tomorrow night off I'm going too. We can both be clueless."

"Yes! We haven't been out in ages!" I cheered as I hopped down from the counter and wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. I missed nights out in the city with my favorite people and I definitely needed a burst of refreshment anyways. "You don't know how much I miss dodging corny men in the club and dancing on you instead. That used to be the highlight of my nightlife."

"Mhm, sure. Now get off of me." She said jokingly and slyly shrugged my arms from around her body. I sucked my teeth and nudged her with my free hand, leaving her to herself as I headed back to my room to enjoy the rest of the pasta on my plate.

This day was ending on a much lighter note and I was so thankful for it. I couldn't count how many times I'd come home with head spinning and now I was starting to think the mindless cups of coffee Donovan and I indulged added extra weight to it – and in a quite literal sense. My thoughts however could now be completely at ease, even if that ease would only last as long as the night.