#1

Fiction is better than reality. The only thing that’s real in this story is New York. Everything else is fiction. Fiction is at its best when it’s happening here in New York. From Central Park to the Empire State Building, New York is effortlessly beautiful without even trying. Anything and everything does happen here. And that what makes this city, completely different. New York isn’t just a city, it’s a different world. But before I begin my story, let me remind you that THIS IS ONLY FICTION.

My name is Lorenzo. I moved here from California two years ago. Having spent almost all of my life in suburban Los Angeles, I knew from an early age that I never belonged to the car-based city. So when I finally got the chance, I embarked to relocate myself to the city where I’ve always wanted to live, New York. I love living here, this city is my home. I work as an office clerk for a staffing agency in midtown Manhattan. And I hate my fucking job. The only reason that keeps me on it is because I need the goddamn paycheck to pay my rent. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. All I know is I like to write poetry. I know nobody writes poetry anymore.. Everyone is so hung up on social media confined to Facebook and Twitter 24/7. That is fucking sad. I’m 28 years old and my age has already abandoned me. I mean, I still feel like I’m 18 years old. Growing up has become obsolete for me. I’ve never been in a serious relationship and have no intentions of engaging myself in it. My generation has justified that marriage is becoming extinct. Not that I have something against it, I just don’t see the point of it.

When I’m not torturing myself with office work, I try to live my life to the fullest. Which includes sex with strangers, cocaine, and alcohol. In East Village is my home away from home, called the Belfry Bar on East 14th street and third avenue. It’s pretty much like my second apartment, the only difference is I cannot fall asleep there. But it’s a cool bar. One of my friends, Danny, works there as a bartender. He recently broke up with his girlfriend and has sex constantly with the girls who come in to the bar. I think being a bartender comes in handy when you hunt down for vaginas. I’ve met some people I’ve hooked up with in that bar too. I didn’t tell Danny but I had sex twice in that narrow bathroom on Christmas Eve two years ago. This is what I love about New York, you can be a prisoner of work and still find some sort of escape without leaving the city.

When I get tired of going to the Belfry, I go to the Beauty Bar across the street. It was a former beauty salon that was turned into a discotheque. There’s a live dj during the weekends playing 80’s music. Being there is like being in a different time warp. Also, that place reminds me a lot of Hanna, the first and last person that I fell in love with. I don’t think she realizes this but she really fucked me up. I met her when I used to work at a hostel in Harlem. She was from Munich visiting New York on September 2010. I never planned to fall in love with her, it just happened. At first, it was strictly platonic but the more time we spent with each other, the more I opened up to her and the more she opened up to me, the more we felt close to each other. I told her stories of my personal life that I wouldn’t normally share with anyone, not even with friends. She also told me personal tragedies of her own. When I was with her, I felt connected. Then I went into a “love haze”, I can’t sleep and couldn’t eat for days and I was wondering what the hell was happening to me. When I told her how I felt, she didn’t feel the same and distanced herself. And when she left, I almost lost my mind. It reached a point where I was suicidal and told her about it but she didn’t do shit. What I got was a silent treatment. I guess that what happens when you’re in love, you take a risk, you take a chance, you go through a crazy phase, you fall apart and then you get your shit together.