NYC

Darkness encasing all around, together we stood. We? Her hands entangled with mine, who was she? Why was she still a shadow? Was she just a myth? 'We'll meet soon' her voice rang in the hollow space. I tried to reach for her, but she scattered herself in millions of light particles. 'Rumi, Rumi!' A familiar voice called my name.

"Rumi..." I woke up to Seb whispering my name in my ear.

"What, whe-" I swayed my head in confusion.

"We're going to land soon, fasten your seat belt." Seb finished.

I took in my surroundings, I was sitting, to my amusement, near the widow seat. I could see the clouds just inches away from the window. So close yet so far from touch. I fastened my seatbelt and continued to watch the clouds until they were no longer near us.

6000 feet, few clouds were still lingering, scattering around to avoid collision. The ground finally came in sight. perfect designs outlined the ground.

4000 feet, I leaned closer to the window as I weaved my way through the maze, created by man-made structures. thousands of buildings stood tall to greet us.

2000 feet, finally the colour kicked in giving the monochrome city a bright, colourful scenery as trees and houses became more vivid and closer. Green, red, blue, although 1000's of feet away, they were clearer than the clouds we just met.

The plane finally skidded on the runway, causing the residents to either clutch their seats for protection, or jerk their heads from the impact. Although I had traveled a lot on planes, I had a sinking feeling that this just might be my last flight.

I don't know what caused this headache, was it the jet-lag? Or was it the sneaky silhouette who kept torturing me in my dreams, whatever it was, it caused me to fade into a realm of thoughts. Far away from reality.

After receiving our arrival stamps, Ronald picked our luggage from the conveyor belt and escorted us to the nearest yellow cab he could find. We seated ourselves on the black seats and waited for Ronald to give him the directions.

"Rumi, you alright?" Seb asked.

"Yeah, I'm good" In the last week I had lost my mother, found the truth about my father's murder, got dumped by a girl, and found the murderer. Well, his name at least, so that's something.

we exited the airport on route 678, the morning sun shown brightly on the cab window, as it twisted and pretzeled it's way to the Flushing Meadow.

"Stop, thank you! Just drop us here." Ronald announced to the cab driver.

"Sir but this-"

"How much is it?" Ronald cut him mid-way.

I shifted my attention to my surroundings and understood why the driver was shocked. We were in a park at 6 in the morning. Only few stray joggers jogged with the occasional dogs walking with their companions.

"Seb... what the hell is he doing?" I asked him in a hushed voice.

"He's your Godfather, not mine." He rolled his eyes in frustration.

The cab driver soon left, leaving us stranded in the middle of the park.

"C'mon whatya waitin for?" Ronald turned towards us.

"Umm... well for instance, a cab!" Seb's said confused.

"Oh, about that, you see... I forgot my money and the machine wasn't working..." He chuckled, and scratched his head.

"What?!" We shouted in unison.

"So you just decided to stop the cab in the middle of nowhere?" I paused and looked towards our luggage, "And what about these three huge bags?"

As if answering my question's a red Toyota 4Runner rushed towards us and quickly parked itself near us. A short, well-built man exited the driver's seat and welcomed us.

"Ronald, good to see you, and Rumi how are you? You must be Seb." His firm voice not leaving any space for answers. "Well... hop in what are ya standing there for?"

We shifted our gaze towards Ronald.

"Oh, yes I forgot to mention, He's my assistant and a friend." Paul motioned his hands towards the short semi-Asian person with an attractive face accompanied by a goatee. "Shawn, they'll be in your care."

"Yes sir!" He beamed. "It's so nice to finally meet y'all!" He vigorously waved our hands.

"Hop on." Ronald ordered.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"Griezmann Enterprises" Ronald answered.

"Is that the company you work in? Or is that another pit-stop before we can fresh up?" Where do I know that name from? I was quite sure I've heard it before.

"That's our main destination for the rest of our lives."

"What does that mean?" Seb asked.

"Sir I think we should first let them rest up, and eat something." Shawn the saviour came to our rescue (I like him, at least he knows we're human beings.)

"Yes, thank you that'd be great!!" I beamed.

I don't know how much time it took us, but I know for sure that we passed 3 parks on our way and were near a bridge called 'Queensboro bridge' I remember this because I asked myself 'weren't kings and queens a British thing?' I know, ok I have weird thoughts when I'm tired.

Shawn the driver took a left to 21st street, adjacent to the Queensbridge housing where the houses were pretty awkwardly architected, I mean what did the architect drink to imagine such shapes.

At first I thought we were gonna live in those awkwardly shaped buildings, but then Shawn the driver took a right and continued on 11th street and parked the car outside a small white house- wedged between two, 2 story brown buildings.

"Sir we've arrived." Shawn the driver finally switched off the engine.

"Ahh, Finally! C'mon kids!" He exited the red SUV.

We took our bags and entered the small white house. I was too exhausted to notice my surroundings, so I asked the directions to the restroom and prepped a cold, soothing bath for myself.

The bath was cut shortly as Shawn the (now) chef entered the room with a plate filled with food. What kind? I was just grateful it was food.

I wrapped myself in the blue gown, left behind by Shawn the chef, and entered the living room where a very devastated Seb was seated on an olive green sofa.

"What happened to Mr. Sarcastic here?" I asked Ronald.

"Do you still have that news paper article I gave you?" He asked, completely ignoring my question.

I fiddled through my backpack and finally took out my wallet, "Yes, here" I showed him the yellow, almost crumbled, paper.

"Read the name of the journalist who wrote the article." He said.

I unfolded the paper and read what was written on it for the hundredth time, but this time I focused on the written by.

Renowned Author shot Dead!

An Article by Richard Griezmann.

Armin.S.Moone [Pen name] was found dead in an alleyway in New York on Saturday morning, it was reported that he was on his way to the airport...

'Richard Griezmann' I muttered in a soft, yet angry voice. Now I remembered where I had known that name from. 'Griezmann, a mere journalist now has an enterprise' I thought to myself, 'quite an achievement.'

"Kid, now do you get it?" Ronald started, "The Richard I was talking about, who killed your father, was Richard Griezmann- The Journalist. An over-night Entrepreneur the whole world looks up to."

"What'd we do now?" Seb asked.

"I don't know." Ronald replied. "13 years and I still don't know."

"There must be something! There has to be!" I shouted.

"There might be one thing."

"What is it?" We asked in unison.