My iPod was playing soothing nature sounds in my ears. I was seated on my favorite park bench, sipping on a mocha.

For forty minutes or so, I was able to enjoy my day in solitude.

To my disappointing surprise however, those forty minutes were short lived.

The sounds of a few choice words being yelled by an annoying female voice, overpowered my iPod's volume settings.

After her few choice words, another colorful speaker began- this one male. His language was downright demeaning.

My mentor from long ago had told me that no matter how capable a woman is to defend herself, a real man will step alongside her to help defend her honor. Nothing to be taken from the lady, but a real gentleman observes when to help.

I pulled my earbuds out and yelled in the direction of the man's voice,

"Could you cut the bloody foolishness, and leave the lady alone, Sir?"

"Who do you think you are to interfere? I was just asking her for a favor? Don't you wanna come help me out, Sweet-cakes? I just wanna tell you about all the things you could help-"

I cut the philanderer off- his mere existence sickened me...not to mention his body odor.

"Sir, the lady does not offer help to demonizing scoundrels. Farewell and good day."

Before he could reply, I whispered to the woman, "Follow me."

I was familiar with the area, so I walked her over to the large oak tree towards the park's back exit.

"Oh, thank you so much! He was so annoying! You saved my life!" she began to prattle.

I don't mind helping people, but I hate it when they continuously babble on about their great appreciation. For me, just a simple, "Thanks," will do.

"Miss, you don't have to thank me. It wasn't a big deal." I huffed...almost dreading my choice of intervention.

"What do you mean? You SAVED MY LIFE! What the heck is wrong with you?" she quipped.

Despite my first impression of her voice being irritating, it actually was quite melodic. Even cute when she got ticked off.

My face warmed with a smile that I hoped she saw. I hadn't seen my own since I was fourteen. But, that was ten long years ago...before the crash.

"Ma'am, lots of people make mistakes. It is ok. Glad I was able to help." I replied as I stuck my hand into my black, leather jacket's deep pocket. I was hesitant to pull my sidekick out of there. I hate talking about that part of myself to new people. I also hate new people. To be frank, I just hate socializing. A long time ago, I had one best friend. That best friend was taken from me though. He was defending his partner because a rogue spook decided he wanted him dead. My friend shoved his fellow agent to the side- only to end up with the bullet meant for his friend that dug through his heart. I knew he had a wife and a daughter. Come to think of it, I never had the chance to meet them. Though, I did wonder what happened to them in the aftermath of their husband's/father's murder. My heart was never the same then. It had been hard enough letting my friend in to my life after my dad died and I lost my sight in that blasted wreck. After Lionel's death, I never trusted anyone again, except for my mum.

But now, four years later, even she is dead. Breast cancer had claimed her life. So, here I am, a bachelor in the midst of London. One of the most popular cities in the West, populated with lots of young people my age. I still haven't found anyone I trust enough to say, "Good morning," to- let alone befriend.

My thoughts were once again interrupted. That was apparently today's theme. She spoke:

"Well, yes, a lot of people do get themselves in a jolly good bit of trouble. I however was out jogging, minding my own business, whenever that drunk slob decided to chase after me. I made no mistake in the matter of the day, except for existing around men. One who tries to sexually harass me, and another who saves me and can't accept a bloody compliment! I thought that maybe there was one guy left with an ounce of chivalry...but no- I was sorely mistaken!" she huffed. I could hear the quick rustle of her clothing, indicating she had most likely crossed her arms in anger.

Feeling slightly shamed, I pulled my sidekick out and said,

"Sorry- you're right. Now goodbye."

I straightened my sidekick and began to tap and swing my way back to my flat. I had to get out. I hated these moments. I felt another anxiety attack coming on.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were-"

I cut her off, "What? Tall? Rugged? Handsome?" I answered. I cringed at the tone of sarcastic bitterness in my own voice. As much as I hated living with blindness, depression, social anxiety, OCD,and PTSD, as much as I hated dealing with it, or talking about it, it wasn't her fault.

"No...blind." she whispered.

"Oh...well, thank you for realizing it and reminding me of it. Now, if you don't mind, I really need to go!" I declared as I walked away.

Left swing, right step, right swing, left step, 1, 2 ,3, 4, 5, 6...

The ever redundant rhythm coursed in my brain.

I was good at finding my own way of things...even multitasking.

Just not when a young, fiery-spirited young woman with a gorgeous voice and scent of cinnamon badgers me.

"Wait! Will you at least tell me your name? Or does my hero have to maintain a secret identity?" she asked. When she pronounced the "y" sound at the end of her question, I could hear the way it was stressed slightly longer. This hinted that she was smiling when she asked for my name.

In spite of my anxiety, I answered her: "My name is Garrett."

"Ah, so the good hero has a name afterall! My name is Kayley." she replied.

Mmmm..."Kayley," has a nice ring to it.

I smiled, "Well, Kayley, it has been very nice to give my secret identity away. I hope I can keep confidence that you won't tell anyone, right?" I questioned.

I hadn't felt this happy in a long time. I suppose this is what it feels like to make a new friend.

"Did Foggy Nelson ever suspect who Matt Murdock was?" she countered.

I was taken aback by her quick witted answer- involving comic book characters no less. Of I happen to be addicted to.

"Not until much later. But, the common folk do get suspicious." I answered.

"Alright, so you can keep up." she laughed.

I felt two emotions in that moment.

One, awe of the beauty of her laughter.

Two, disgust that she had just said, "...you can keep up."

Yet, I had made a misjudgment of her meaning.

"It is so hard engaging in conversations with others sometimes. I love to make comic hero jokes, but not everyone gets the references." she explained.

I felt a stab of guilt as I realized my lame mistake. I need to stop being so paranoid. But that was when the paranoia began again.

I ran my fingers through my neck length hair- it was one of my compulsions when I got overwhelmed. I needed to get away...without Kayley.

"Listen, uh...meet me under the oak tree again tomorrow at noon. Okay?" I asked...my voice began to quiver.

I hate these blasted anxiety attacks.

The neighborhood's cacophony was beginning to get unbearably loud. I was entering sensory overload.

Then, the unthinkable happened. She laid a delicate hand on my shoulder.

The sensation was a double-edged sword. One part of me suddenly desired for close physical contact with her. The other, the part of me that hated the unseen, unknown outside world- repulsed.

I involuntarily flinched at her touch.

She didn't move it though. Instead she got closer to me and whispered, "I'd really enjoy that, Garrett. And, to answer your questions earlier: Yes, to being tall. Yes, to being rugged. And, yes...you are quite handsome. But, you are also very brave and sweet."

My mouth suddenly grew a brain of its own and dropped a tad.

As I tried to say, "Uh...uh...uh...thank you," she ghosted on me.

"Kayley?" I called. No answer.