MISFIT IN THE CITY: Series One

Episode One: THE BEST WEEKEND EVER (part 1)

[Hi! Part one is below, but first I'll briefly explain how the series works: this story is being adapted from a television script I wrote! 

I'm a big "Sex and the City" fan, but I've always kind of wondered what the show would be like, if they didn't have that perfect "best friend crew." 

It kind of made me think of a more...awkward reality, where friends enter different life stages and drift apart, you find new friends in the strangest places, and you're a writer haunted by your last big love (good luck to our main character on the dating scene!). And PS: an intriguing guy will enter the scene in episode two (which is now posted!)

Each "episode" will consist of 4 or 5 Wattpad parts, and if people want to see more I'll write more. I'd love for this to be considered for a television series one day, so please vote and share the series if you enjoy it!]

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[NOTE: This is a work of fiction]

Episode One: THE BEST WEEKEND EVER

Part One

[DISCLAIMER: this series has a political incorrectness and edginess that some may find offensive, so read accordingly!]

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The streets of New York on a late summer evening were alive with sounds of footsteps, honking horns, arguing tourists, and pedestrian workaholics wheeling and dealing on the phone.

The streets of New York had room for it all, up to and including "faux" designer purses for as low as fifteen dollars. It was only when the view turned upwards to the rooftop bars, that things became a little more tailored to particular tastes.

The rooftop lounge perched atop the heart of Chelsea went by the name of "Flow," and given the constant influx of people it seemed to live up to its name. This Friday night scene was a lot more "crammed" than "flow," as it was now that busy evening hour when after-work drinks transitioned into party central. Ties were loosened, voices were loud, and everywhere you looked, there were close encounters of the patio sectional kind.

You could say this trendy lounge was tailored to the young-and-eligibles, that twenty-something sweet spot where the salary was good and the fun had no end. But at a table off to the side? You would find at least one person who lived outside the demographic.

Neena Sharma sat waiting at a table for two, tapping her foot on the table's leg, and checking her watch more than once. Her colourful accessories and printed blouse stood out against her long black hair. Neena may have been in her early thirties, but in the warm glowing sunlight of the early evening, she was basically twenty-two. Her wildly confident assessment on age had been brought to her by "Sex and the City," the show that had caused a seismic shift in thinking, one in which the concept of "settling down" took a back seat to cocktails and personal bliss. It was a powerful theory embraced by both society and Neena, a theory only shaken when her Facebook newsfeed flooded over with wedding photos...or fetus ultrasound photos (which she found to be disturbing)...or photos of children's first days of school.

A baby was the last thing on Neena's mind that night, as she was singularly focused on experiencing an evening that would validate her choices as an independent woman. Tonight was a return to when the fun would never end.

The only wrinkle in Neena's plan was that her best friend Alice was half an hour late. She checked her phone to see if Alice had replied to her irritated text. It was one of those texts where Neena's irritation had been cleverly concealed with emoticons and "lol." But there was no reply.