For You? Anything

𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 1

𝙻𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚑

"Fuck, it's hot."

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as the soles of my feet hit the pavement, approaching the crosswalk. I could feel the heat taking its toll on my body, so I adjusted my pace accordingly, maintaining a steady rhythm.

After a momentary pause, I attempted to jog in place, my heart pounding from the intense workout. Seeking solace against the chaotic sounds of traffic around me, I reached for the wired earphones connected to my beloved MP3 player—the same one I had cherished since I was sixteen years old. With tender care, I placed them back into my ears, immersing myself once again in the familiar tunes that had accompanied me through countless moments.

Running for nearly an hour every morning served as both a mental sanctuary and a means to keep my body in shape. It was my haven. A place where the noise of the world faded away, replaced by the rhythm of my footsteps and the steady beat of my heart.

I grew up in Oregon's foster care system, so independence was always my reality. From a young age, I learned to rely solely on my own abilities, crafting my own path forward and finding comfort in myself. The memories of those challenging years forced me to have my own back, and to fiercely protect my dreams and aspirations.

When the crosswalk light finally turned green, I resumed my run. I had been at it for forty-five minutes now, with another fifteen left until I reached my flat. Fifteen minutes of blaring horns and the chatter of a dozen different languages. A far cry from the calm streets and empty skies of my hometown.

The world was simpler there, the quiet moments longer. I remembered the weight of my camera, a trusty but outdated model, always hanging around my neck. I would capture the stillness of a broken mailbox turned into a nest or the calm beauty of an old tree. But in the concrete and steel forest of New York City, my camera sat idle in my flat. Its lens was too narrow to capture the size of the city.

My heart continues to thump against my rib cage. With every step I took, the weight of my dream to land a job in photography felt heavier. It seemed like both a lifeline and a challenge. Like shadows, doubt came in and made me question whether I was ready, talented, and even if my dreams were worth pursuing.

As I waited for the crosswalk signal to change, my mind raced. The quaint burger joint where I had once served fries and shakes seemed like a million miles away. There, I had been a big fish in a small pond, saving every dime for the camera that became my silent confidant. Now, as taxis zipped by and sirens wailed in the distance, I felt a chill despite the September heat. Was I prepared to swim in these uncharted waters?

The sudden blare of a car horn snapped me back to reality, and my feet carried me to my walk-up. The job I had landed, with its glossy promise of a career, enticed me from the future. The city might be overwhelming, but it was also a vast and vibrant canvas, waiting for my lens to capture it.

I sprinted across the street, my mind focused on the start of my pursuit. Suddenly, a black-tinted BMW appeared out of nowhere, its sleek form whizzing past me with only inches to spare. My heart skipped a beat as I leaped to the side. "Shit!"

The driver's furious honk pierced the air, but undeterred, I defiantly stood my ground, channeling my frustration into a firm kick aimed at the front bumper. "Keep an eye on the fucking road, jackass!" I yelled, relishing the sight of a scuff mark left by my shoe—a small triumph. With a satisfied smile, I continued my stride towards the apartment.

As I reached my door, I glanced back to find the vehicle still parked there, despite the red light and the congestion of other vehicles. My attention lingered on it. The back window rolled down slightly, revealing a figure with ivory skin, a slick-back taper fade, and Ray-Ban sunglasses shielding their eyes.