A/N: Welcome to the prolog of my new story! I'm excited about this. i hope y guys enjoy, and I hope my chapters come out well because that'd just make me über happy. R&R!
New York is a busy place with a melody. With its bustling people going too and from work, talking on their headsets or phones. With its rushing students, going too and from school, laughing and chatting with their friends, giggling and gawking at boys or girls they find 'cute'. With its mothers and fathers, hushing children on the way to the store, or the doctor's, or to see family.
New York is a diverse place with a harmony. With its merchants, selling their wares and making a profit in stores. With its street venders, competing to see who can call the loudest and draw the most business with the most satisfaction. With its prostitutes, turning tricks and working the corners like they were born to sell their soles. With its dealers, slinking about the alleys and lots, beady-eyed and jumpy as they grab cash and hand over death certificates by the gram.
New York is a changing place with a drum beat, a strong base line. With its busses, moving people through the streets in tidal waves. With its traffic, held up or speeding past in a cacophony of honking horns and humming motors. With its steady thud-slap-thud of walkers, setting the rhythm for every heart beat and breath. With its underlying rumble of the subway as it takes the underground by storm and branches people out through the arteries and veins at break-neck speeds.
New York is a broken place with the screech of that one bad trumpet or cello in the orchestra. With its beggars, trying to find someone to finance their habits. With families, trying desperately to scrape by. With its gangs, getting a kick out of pulling blood from one another and getting a rise. With its addicts, going for kick after kick as their lives wither into nothing. With its homeless, sleeping where it's protected from the cold and wind, eating little when they can afford it and starving when they can't.
New York is symphony, composed in utterly perfect imperfections as life ebbs in an out of the movements. The score is etched into each and every life, every thing, every insignificant detail.