“You look great,” Graham said, smiling at the black jeans and strappy black top I decided would show off my body best, but not so much that he thought we’d traipse to the bathroom again. I was going to go home with him this time.

I stood from the stool, keeping one eye on my drink, as always. “Thank you,” I said. “So do you.”

“Shall we?” Without pausing, Graham took my drink and led us to our table, also labeled Reserved, directly next to Sarah and Andy’s. In this place, with this person, the four of us were equals. Everyone knew who they were and wondered, by association, who we were. Who I was. But out of jealousy, though not because I didn’t fit in. I made sure I looked like I was exactly where I belonged.

Up close, and put-together, Graham didn’t look quite how I expected him to. He was arguably the hottest man I’d ever met, but he seemed to contribute to that status less than I thought he would. His clothes fit him but weren’t fitted to him. His hair was brushed but not styled. He smelled swoony of soap, not expensive aftershave. He just looked like this. He didn’t have to force it. It was just the way he existed. He had quite a set of genes.

“How are you liking New York?” he asked. “Lena mentioned you just moved a couple months ago.”

“It’s been...fun,” I responded. “I could see myself staying here long-term.”

New York, I learned after moving there, was not like a character in the way Cosmo’s articles about movies made it seem. New York was a Main Character. The Main Character. New Yorkers love shitting on New York—the trains never work, there are rats everywhere, the rent is insane—but the second you join in, they turn as defensive as a lion protecting a smelly-ass cub: The trains never work but at least we have the largest public transportation system in the world.

There are rats everywhere, but they’re basically just squirrels. Un-socially-acceptable squirrels. Honestly, justice for rats!

My rent is insane but I’m paying for the opportunity. And my kitchen is so big I can open my fridge and oven at the same time!

How do you like New York? and What do you do? were the two questions I’d most received since I’d been here. All anyone seemed to care about on the surface were how you felt about their city and what you did to afford to live there.

“Already?” he asked. “It usually takes a few years to picture long-term.”