You never took comparisons between New York and Gotham City seriously, but after a month living there, you realized that even Gotham was better.

You'd much rather see the Joker driving down the street than watch a drunk person piss on someone's leg on the subway. What the hell were they putting in New York's water to make people like this?

In short, you weren't a fan of New York, but you had recently signed a record deal and couldn't miss the chance; so you tolerated the city's craziness for a good paycheck and a chance to be known.

In the midst of the chaos of New York, there was someone who was also your home; Jordan, your ex-girlfriend from when you were younger who lived there.

You two dated when you were both 15 years old; the relationship, which seemed like some silly teenage thing, lasted until you were 20, but unfortunately it was interrupted when Jordan's parents divorced and she went to live with her mother in New York.

You two kept in touch, but it faded over the years; however, neither of you holds any resentment towards each other. Jordan still remembers the feeling of their first time together; she still remembers being a silly 18-year-old girl completely in love with you.

You two grew closer again, Jordan was showing you the city more thoroughly and explaining which places to avoid. Two more months passed and Jordan was going completely crazy trying to push those feelings for you away.

Jordan had been daydreaming about you for a long time, especially since she was the one who first made them fall in love with you in the past, and she was the one falling in love again.

Jordan liked her scent, the color of her hair, her smile, and her laugh when she recounted what happened while the two of them were apart. She liked everything about you and felt twice as much as she did as a teenager. None of Jordan's other girlfriends in those 5 years had the same effect on her that you had on her in 3 months.

All this because Jordan's soul already knew yours. She could read you with the palm of your hand when she was 18, and she still can now at 25; but for now, she would pretend she was fine just being your friend, even if she would almost cry herself to sleep thinking about you.

Jordan worked as a tattoo artist and she had her own studio; it wasn't always completely stable, but Jordan was doing well.

Jordan insisted to you staying at her place when you left the record too late. You even tried to argue with her, but she was adamant and didn't want you walking around the city alone since you didn't want to drive, and weren't comfortable doing it yet, so you ended up taking public transportation while your car sat idle in the garage.

So there you were, sitting at Jordan's marble counter while she dried the dishes and wouldn't let you do anything. You knew this Jordan, and honestly, you were enjoying being pampered by her again. Your chest warmed with nostalgia.

You sip from a glass of wine, Jordan with another in her hand that does nothing to her. It was as if she were drinking water, while you struggled to keep the alcohol from making you tipsy.

Seriously, I can't believe you missed the subway three times. It's easier if I pick you up every day. Jordan says, hiding the fact that she would secretly love to pick you up every day after work.