Summary: John Reese, a homeless vet, had lost everything. He'd lost the woman he loved, his friends, and the only family he'd ever known thought he was dead. He had nothing to live for and had considered taking his own life until one night on a subway changed everything.
Joss Carter, a famous photographer, is at the height of her career. She's sought after by all the fashion magazines and is known for her talent of bringing out the inner beauty of her subjects. One night, after a long shoot, she decides to take the train home instead of taking a cab. She's nearly mugged by a gang on a subway until a homeless man saves her.
Taking the stranger in, she offers him a room to rest and clean up. What she discovers under the haggard façade is a man who could easily be the face of high fashion menswear. She calls her old friend and designer, Harold Wren, and asks for his help. Together, they take the blue eyed stranger from the streets to the runway, but not without a few problems along the way.
Author's note: This is a story I've been sitting on for a while and I'm posting it here. I finally think I know where I want this story to go.
"I need you to turn your head just so." Flashes of light and the clicking of the shutter release from her camera competed with the sounds of Lady Gaga wailing about a bad romance in the background. The model, a stunning newcomer from Cameroon, followed Joss Carter's instructions like a pro.
"I need more from you. It's there, I know it is. You're wearing Elie Saab Couture and you look like a princess, but your eyes tell me you don't feel like one." Joss lowered the camera to look at the model.
"I don't feel like one right now. It's late and I'm hungry," the beauty complained.
"Welcome to the life of a supermodel," Joss joked. "We're close. I know we are. I need a certain shot and once we get it, we're outta here."
The young woman sighed. "I'm doing what you ask."
Taking the woman's frustration in stride, Joss did what she did best. "I know you are." A click from the camera. "And that's great." Another click of the shutter release.
"Leon!" Joss called for her assistant, never taking her eyes away from her subject, continuing to take pictures until she got the perfect shot. Her assistant scurried over.
"Yes?" he replied eagerly.
"Is the package I asked for here yet?" Joss asked cryptically.
"Yes. Just right outside that door."
"Perfect," she replied with a secretive grin. She continued with the shoot, focusing the conversation on the model once again. "Now, what I want you to do for me..." She kneeled down to capture the young woman at a different angle. "Is to think of the man you have a crush on." Click. "Imagine he's picking you up for a gala and you got all dressed up for him in that beautiful gown." Click. "Think of the anticipation you'd feel, waiting for him to pick you up." Click. "He could be right outside that door." More clicks from the shutter release.
"My love is at home, but that is a pleasant thought," the model replied.
Joss rose from her kneeled position and walked around the studio near the door. "Keep that pose, but turn towards me." Another click from the camera. "Perfect." Click. "It is a pleasant thought. Meeting your Prince Charming. But who said your prince was so far away?" Joss snapped away, while the door behind her opened, revealing the model's longtime boyfriend. The look of love, surprise, and pure joy was captured in a millisecond. Joss stopped taking photos and went to check the proofs on a nearby computer screen.
"We have it?" she asked her dedicated assistant.
"I think we have the shot," Leon confirmed as he clicked through the proofs.
"Stop. That one. That's it." Joss felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her and the feeling never got old. Every time she got the perfect shot she had this feeling and it was addictive. It fed her drive, which catapulted her career as a professional photographer to where it is today. She'd send the shots over to Vogue first thing in the morning.
"That's a wrap everyone. Time to go home."
Joss was dog tired and did not feel like waiting on a cab. Leon had insisted that she let him call a car service, but she was just ready to get home and take a long hot bath. So she turned down his offer and did what she hadn't done since the early days of her career when she was a "starving artist". She decided to take the train home.
She carefully descended the stairs in her designer heels – her other addiction – taking care to avoid a nasty spill down the concrete steps. Were her shoes sensible? Absolutely not. But she was petite in stature and they made her feel taller. In an industry dominated by male photographers and designers, she found confidence with the additional inches her heels provided and kept her head held high whenever she entered a room.
She took a seat on a nearby bench to wait for the next train. "This will be quick. Just a couple stops and then I'm home," she said to herself.
Once it finally arrived, she hurriedly found a seat near the exit doors and settled her things for the ride. When she looked up, she saw she wasn't alone. There was a homeless man sitting across from her. He was haggard, and looked like he hadn't showered or shaved in weeks. He held on to a cheap bottle of whiskey as if it were the only thing he had left. The one thing Joss always paid attention to when meeting someone was their eyes. A person's eyes always told a story if one were to pay close attention. The stranger's blue eyes were incredibly sad and said so much. There was a story there, a story of loss, heartache and deep despair. As much as she wanted to take out her camera to capture this moment, she knew this man needed some peace.
A group of young men entering the car she shared with the homeless stranger brought her out of her thoughts. One punk, who seemed to be the de facto leader of the group of wannabes, decided that being loud and boisterous wasn't enough. Nope. He wanted to harass the bum across from her. He reached for the bottle of liquor in the homeless man's lap and Joss had never seen anyone react so quickly.
The man swiftly grabbed the punk's arm and, after thinking better of a confrontation, let him go. That should have been the end of it, but the kid's ego was bruised and now he had to prove how tough he was in front of his friends.
"Didn't bring enough for the whole group? Have to teach you about sharing." When the young punk started to get in the man's face, Joss had had enough. If there was one thing she hated, it was a bully. And in the industry she worked in, there were plenty of bullies.
"That's enough. Leave him alone. He isn't bothering anybody."
Little did Joss know, those words would be the beginning of a new chapter in her life.
It seemed as if the world moved in slow motion, but everything happened so fast. The main agitator, the one the other punks called Anton, got directly in her face. "Is that right? Well, maybe you can share something with us instead. I don't usually screw black bitches, but you'll do." He reached for her arm and yanked her from her seat.
"Get off me!" she shouted, shoving Anton away from her, swinging her fists, and meeting her target. The rings on her fingers cut the skin near his eye.
He reached up to gently touch the cut and looked at his hand to see the blood that trickled on his fingers. "You stupid little bitch!" he shouted, enraged. He raised his hand to strike her but was stopped when a hand grabbed his arm, stopping the momentum of his swing.
Joss could only watch with awe as the homeless man, now her protector, took on the group of young men. He handled each thug with the grace of a trained fighter, blocking their hits and using their momentum against them. Before she could blink, all of the young men were lying on the floor unconscious.
She stood there, frozen in place and stared at the strange man who now appeared to be having some sort of panic attack. The train finally came to a stop and the sliding doors of the exits opened. She couldn't move. She wouldn't move.
"Leave," he demanded in a voice so low she missed what he'd said.
"Wh-what?" she stammered, her voice shaking with fear and adrenaline.
"You need to leave." He finally looked at her, his pleading eyes drawing her in and holding her in place.
Her mind was racing. She couldn't just leave, at least not without him. He'd saved her life. What if the cops came? What would they think upon their arrival on this scene? She knew it was self-defense, but what would happen to him if the punks lied? She should stick around in case she needed to give a statement to the police.
But even if they let him go, what would happen to him? Where would he go? Did he have anywhere to go? He needed a meal that wasn't a cheap bottle of booze and was in desperate need of a shower and fresh clothes. She wondered if he'd be able to wear any of the clothes her ex-husband left behind after their divorce.
The warning dings of the train brought her from her thoughts. If she was going to leave, she needed to leave now before the train left continued to the next stop. "I can't leave you here," she finally replied.
He hurriedly gathered her belongings and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her off the train. Once he let her go, he shoved her bags into her arms and turned back towards the train, but the doors had already closed and the train had started to move. She heard him swear under his breath and watched as he paced back and forth. He stopped abruptly and turned to her, eyes wild as he approached her.
He grabbed her shoulders and with a tight grip he held her captive. "You never saw me and you weren't here." He released her and walked away, his long strides widening the distance between them.
"Wait!" Joss called out. He stopped walking but did not turn around. "I just wanted to say thank you... You saved my life. I can't just let you leave to God knows where, wandering the streets."
He slowly turned around and watched her walk towards him, closing the gap between them. "Listen, miss, you need to leave. Hail the first cab you see and get home safe. Forget about me. Forget you ever saw me and what happened tonight."
"I'd feel safer if you were with me." He shook his head and began to speak, but she kept on talking before he could say anything. "At least let me get you a warm meal and a place to clean up and lay your head for the night," she offered, hoping he'd accept.
Joss watched the wheels turn in his head as he appeared to mull over her offer, weighing the pros and cons. He looked straight in the eyes, once again taking her breath away at how expressive they were. He nodded his head and with a voice filled with resignation he said, "Okay."