Chapter One

Warning: A work in progress. It is an fanfiction, keyword being fiction, entirely based on my own version of reality and not actual reality. I have never been to New York, I have never met Anderson Cooper, and I doubt I ever will. It is fiction, people, fiction!

I was sitting in a café across the street from my hotel. I had only arrived in New York the previous night and needed to get out of the room for a little while. I hadn’t planned anything for the day, only to situate myself and maybe wander a little bit. I brought my book du jour along with me so I could read while sipping a café mocha and enjoying the atmosphere of anonymity. In the book I was reading, Fury by Salman Rushdie, the main character had come to New York to escape from himself. I wondered if I had come for the same reasons. No, I came to New York to explore, to find something. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, or if I’d find it there, but New York seem as good a place as any to start.
When I finished my drink, I slipped Fury into my purse and headed to the street to wander aimlessly. I wanted to enjoy the city, not fall into all of the usual tourist traps. I wanted to feel connected, to feel alive and feel the pulse of a city so completely different than my own. I wanted that brief feeling of oneness with a stranger when you brush against one another on a busy sidewalk, because now you’re as much of part of their life as they are in yours. New York was really an ideal place to start.
I walked briskly to keep pace with those surrounding me; contemplating the hurriedness of life, the difference in attitude to home. Home was so slow, so calm and relaxed even at the core. I could walk along a busy downtown street and stop to admire a building, or look inside a shop’s window without feeling as though I were in the way. This was like another world, a world I felt I needed to be a part of for a while.
My little jaunt across the city took me to somewhere vaguely familiar; strange in a place I had never been before. I looked around, searching for a street sign, or maybe a building that could tell me where I was. People rushed by as though I weren't there at all. Eerily comforting as I gazed at my surroundings. I noticed some recognizable features and giant red lettering that declared that I stood in front of the CNN building. Interesting my feet would take me here. Although I had intentions to go inside, today was not that day. I looked along the sides of the street again, this time for a coffee shop to rest at before heading back the way I had come.
I spotted one not far away, taking my book and myself inside to relax for a minute. I sat reading, my drink nearby, as the time passed. I glanced up to notice the sun had begun to sink behind the buildings in the distance; evening was beginning to set it. It was then as I gazed out the window, I noticed something else I recognized.
His head was craned over a laptop, a cup of what I assumed to be coffee not far out of reach. He looked completely engulfed in whatever it was that was keeping him busy, his silver hair the only thing clearly visible. I sat there blinking, thinking to myself that it was impossible for it to be him. I mean, what were the odds? But I knew those lines, that silhouette and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him. Trying not to blatantly stare, I glanced towards him, waiting for that face and those unmistakable eyes to confirm my suspicions.