Notes:

I published this in another webpage but I decided to do it here, also. As I've said before, I'm not a native English speaker so feel free to leave comments or correct anything you want. That's how we improve!

Start spreadin' the news, i'm leavin' today

i want to be a part of it
New york, New york

"New York, New York", Frank Sinatra.

Your phone hadn't stopped buzzing for a long time. It seemed ages but you didn't want to answer despite the awful sound. Moreover, you couldn't imagine who was calling you, as you didn't have that number saved. Maybe somebody had written a wrong number, who knew. Also, who could imagine that you were back there, in New York?

Nobody, you hoped.

The sound interrupted itself in the middle of the call. It was like if the other person was tired of trying and had given up, thinking that his or her efforts were useless. Better that way, you thought while pouring yourself a glass of wine. It was one of the little pleasures you had after a long day working. Sitting near the window with a glass of wine, sometimes with drops of rain striking the ground. You liked to open the window and smelling the aroma of wet grass. That was one of the privileges you had. A small garden, enough to spread the flowers' scent every morning through your window.

You extended your right hand in order to reach the poetry book you were reading the previous night but the phone began to ring again. You groaned in disgust and left the glass on the table, holding your phone.

"Hello?"

"(Y/N)? Is that you?"

"Who's calling?" You asked frowning your eyebrows, not being able to recognise that voice.

"Is Franklin Nelson"

You were lost to words when the name came from the phone. Something in your brain was moving like a gear. Memories. Moments. College. Columbia. All the things you thought you had forgotten some time ago. But this was…

"Foggy! I'm…well, I'm not going to lie. It is a surprise to me. How did you know my number? A lot of years have passed and…"

"I know, I know. I just…well, sometimes I talk with old classmates and stuff and they told me you were here in Hell's Kitchen"

"Liar", you replied with a grin in your face.

"Okay, okay. I saw you once on the street and…", you heard just silence, so decided to wait, "I followed you"

"What?"

"It sounds worst. Actually, I had to go somewhere near to Columbia and I asked some questions…You know, I was wondering…after all this years…"

"Yeah, I know", you sighed and fell on your couch, hugging one of your cushions. "Things never go as we expect, do they?"

You heard a sound between a snort and an ironical laugh and you didn't know what was going on. Had Foggy called you just to speak about him as a stalker? You didn't believe so.

"Foggy, you wanted something. As you said, we haven't talked for ages, and now, a few months after I've moved back to New York, you call me", you stopped and rubbed your tired eyes. You needed some sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Matthew", his voice had suddenly changed. It was low, dark, and serious. "All these years…can you believe it? All these years. It was all a lie"

"Foggy, you may think that I can read minds or something, because I don't get it"

"He will need your help, (Y/N)"

"Will he?"

"Yeah. I can't stay with him. Not as before. I'm leaving Nelson & Murdock"

"Wait, what? What the hell is Nelson & Murdock?"

"Our office. It was our dream, do you remember?"

"Yeah. You wanted bagels everyday", you said, trying to cheer Foggy up, which worked. At least a little bit, because you heard a tired laugh on the other side of the line.

"And plants. Don't forget the plants"

You both remained silent for a few minutes. You could hear your old neighbour's TV on, with a soap opera about a girl or something like that. She was deaf and always had the volume to the maximum. Outside, a car stopped and somebody slapped the door, walking angrily. Possibly it was Mr. Marcello's daughter, who was seventeen.

"Foggy, will you tell me what's wrong?"

He sighed and you heard something like a glass being left on a surface. You realised about the noise around the man and you could imagine him in a bar, emptying a bottle by himself.

God, things were terrible then.

"Have you heard the news lately, (Y/N)?"

"Briefly. Remember: Moving, new house, new job. This kind of things"

"Yeah, sorry. May…May I invite you to drink coffee?"

"I don't think it will be good for your future hangover, but…yes, of course. Come home tomorrow", you waited until he had asked some woman called Josie a pencil and you gave him your address. "Clear?"

"Got it. Thank you. I…God…probably Matt would kill me for involving you in this, but…It is not fair, (Y/N), you need to know"

"To know…what? Foggy!"

"You won't know anything about what happened in Hell's Kitchen these months. Search an article about Union Allied and then more about "The Devil of Hell's Kitchen"

"Who's he? Or what is he?"

"A vigilante. We've had some issues here. We've not been bored, as you might see. I promise tomorrow you'll know everything. Right now, I just want to destroy my kidney"

"Okay, okay…but…why this vigilante? Who's he?"

The line was silent and you thought that maybe Foggy had hung up. After five minutes, you heard his voice again.

"It's Matthew"

You always thought that you had been born unlucky. You were always falling and bumping into things on the street. And of course, your first day at the Columbia University wouldn't be different.

You were lost. Officially lost.

You had asked your timetable and now you were walking from one building to another, trying to find yours. Your hunt was unsuccessful and you were becoming more and more exasperated.

You were walking down the path listening to a group of students laughing while they were eating some sandwiches and sitting on the grass. Suddenly, a ray of light dazzled you and surprise. You bumped into someone and you both fell on the ground.

Your palms scraped with the little stones and started to bleed slightly. You hissed and stood up, grabbing the piece of paper with the timetable on it and felt the stress coming out of you.

"Are you blind or what?", you said looking at your hands.

"So they tell me", answered a soft voice and you raised your head.

The first thing you saw were the sunglasses. Nothing unusual at that time of the year. But then, you realised that the boy was holding a white cane between his hands. Your mouth opened and you put one of your hands on it.

"Oh my god. I'm so so sorry, really. I didn't want to…I just…", you swallowed and run your hand through your hair, looking at the long-haired man that was with him.

"Nevermind. Everybody has a bad day"

"Yeah, I think today is mine's", you said nodding and the boy held a hand in the air. You took it, smiling shyly and feeling his heat against your cold palms. "(Y/n)"

"My name is Matthew. And this is Foggy", said he pointing at his friend with his finger.

"Foggy?" You said with small laugh.

"Yeah, he's my roommate and well…he is like a foghorn"

"So funny, Matt", answered Foggy rolling his eyes but with a smirk in his face. He noticed your timetable and raised an eyebrow. "The lady needs help?"

You looked down at the piece of paper and smiled, nodding with your head and looking at it again, carefully. The secretary had noted how to arrive but the instructions were confusing, her handwriting a mess and the buildings all similar.

"Well, yeah. I was going to Spanish right now and…", you turned looking where you were.

"But, there's no problem!", Foggy said with a smile growing up in his face, looking at you. "The blind guy whom you bumped into goes to"

"Really? And do you know where is it?" you answered trying to ignore the blush in your cheeks, remembering the embarrassing moment minutes ago. Matt smiled too.

"Yeah, it seems that we will be classmates. Would it be bad?"

"If you don't remind me about what happened before, it will be great"

"Forgotten"

You both laughed and then your eyes were on Foggy, who had his hands inside his pockets and was looking at a stunning girl with dark hair and sweet eyes. She was laughing with a ginger girl.

"Are you studying Spanish with us?"

"Uhm…no, he's not", answered Matt since Foggy didn't do it. "He's doing Punjabi"

You grimaced and looked at Foggy, who was still staring at the girl with dark hair. Then, something clicked inside your brain and you understood everything. Turning to Matt, you laughed again and he did so.

"So, Punjabi for a girl"

"Not actually", said Foggy looking at Matt and you again as the girl disappeared with her friends. "Punjabi will be the next business language, you will see. And…", Foggy glanced at his watch and smiled widely. "My class begins in ten minutes. See you later, Matt. Nice to meet you, (Y/N)!"

Matthew walked moving his cane from one side to the other and asked you questions about your studies or what you wanted to do. His voice was warm and soft and the conversation was fluent.

You told him that you were studying Literature but you didn't know yet what to do with your life. You loved languages, as you were bilingual –Your grandmother was French- but you had theatre and ballet classes. Also you wanted to be a writer, so your mind was quite a mess.

"May I ask you a question, Matthew?"

"Matt, please. And…", he smiled as he was enjoying a secret joke that only him knew. "No, I haven't always been blind"

"I suppose that's what everybody wants to know", you said, "but it wasn't that". He looked surprised and made a movement with his hand, asking you to continue. "Why did you decide to become a lawyer?"

"Well…uhm…I'd have preferred my blindness story", he answered with a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders. "I want to help people who can't help themselves. I don't know. Make this world a better place, I suppose. You can call me a dreamer"

"No, no, actually…that's beautiful. I believe…", you raised your head and closed your eyes, feeling the warm rays of light caressing your skin. You breathed and smiled before continue talking. "I believe the world needs people like you. Dreamers. To fight and get what bored and tired people won't get"

Matt tilted his head to you and gave you a smile. You wondered how his eyes looked like under the sunglasses and the thought of you taking them off passed through your head.

"There we are. Spanish class"

"Thanks for helping me, Matt"

"Whatever, you need, (Y/N). It's been a pleasure"

You both sat together and enjoyed your first contact with the language. As you knew two already, Matt apologised if he was not as good at you, but actually, he could do it pretty good.

Not bad for the first day.