Soon, they were in front of the building where she's staying.

"Thanks Mikhail. This was...nice"

He smiles and alights the cab. He goes to the other side and opens her door for he. He instructs the cab to wait, and walks her to the stoop.

"May I see your phone?" He asks and holds his hand out. She digs through her pocket and plants the phone in his palm. He programs his number in and hands it back. "I'd really like to see you again. You're one of the most interesting people I have ever met and I would be very happy if we could see each other again. Everything will be in your own terms though, so I will not get your number - you dictate and choose the path of this acquaintance. If I am so fortunate then end tonight with a 'see you soon'. If not, say 'It was a pleasure meeting you.'. What will it be?"

She smiled at him as she pocketed her phone. She leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. "Happy New Year, Mikhail. I'll talk to you soon."

He broke into a grin and kissed her on both cheeks. "Sleep tight and I'll see you soon."

She walked up the steps and entered the building. She didn't look back but she knew he waited until she was inside before he took the cab back to Manhattan.

The apartment was still empty when she got in it, but somehow, she didn't feel quite as lonely anymore.

***

They talk until the coffee shop closes. He finds out that she's a writer and she learns that he's a pianist. She tells him that she sings and he confides that he loves to dance. He hates vodka even though he's Russian and she can't eat balut even though she's Filipino. They walk around New York aimlessly until they reach a building somewhere in front of Central Park.

"I know this building" she says as she cranes her neck up. "The view of the park must be spectacular from up there."

"Would you like to see it?"

She grins. "Are you suggesting we do a B&E?" Mischief glints in her eyes.

"Well, it isn't a B&E if you've got a key." He smiles

"Sorry to break it to you buddy, but I live in Queens. I got a view of the broadside of the next building though and the entertainment is endless. 12 windows worth!" She laughs.

"We'll do that next time. C'mon!" He puts his hand at the small of her back and led her in. She walks a few steps and suddenly stops.

"Oh Jesus Christ on a stick..."

He stops as well, surprised and confused. "What's the matter?"

"You live here." She says accusingly.

"I can't do this." She went rigid and was ready to leave.

"Louise! Wait! You can't do what?"

"I can't go up there, where you live. It's..." She's waving her hands, trying to emphasize her point but ends up looking like she's doing a botched up job of a hula. "...the cycle! It's the start of the...it's complicated." She finally stops and puts her hands on her hips in an exasperated manner.

"Louise, calm down. It's not anything. I just thought you'd want to see the view. We can go somewhere else, if you want."

"You must think I'm a nutcase or something. I'm not. It's just...you wouldn't understand...I'm sorry." She babbled as she walked toward the street.

"Louise!" Mikhail chased after her. "Louise! Please stop!"

She does and she turns to him, her face all apologetic and embarrassed. She lets out a breath and starts to speak. "New Year, you know? It may sound so cliche and trite but I want to make a new start - or maybe put an end to something. I don't want to have to go up there and take in the view from your assumed gorgeous apartment and start feeling all lonely and then look at you like you can fill the void only for me to look stupid because I started the cycle again. I'm sure you're a nice guy and all but that's it, you're a nice guy that has a nice life and I tend to mess things up as I go through life so I'm just going to stop right here." She takes in a breath and looks at him. He has an amused but slightly confused look on his face. "And that was too much honesty or the first day of the year...pretty spastic too..."

He threw his head back and laughed. "It's pretty honest and I actually appreciate it. It's also very amusing."

She made a face. "Well, I'm glad you think so." She turns away from him and starts to walk. He follows her and starts matching her pace.

"Wait! Just slow down..." He holds her elbow to get her to stop - to which he succeeds. She looks at his hand and then at him. He was flushed from the running and a smile was still on his face. " I didn't mean to offend you. All I wanted to say was that I find it refreshing that you can be so honest. I don't get that kind of honesty too often."

She sized him up and judged that he was sincere enough. "Okay..." she breathed out, half relieved and half embarrassed by her display. They found themselves smiling at each other after a few seconds of awkward silence, then she broke the void.

"I have to go. My friends would be worried." She pointed at a random direction.

"Queens would be that way." He pointed.

"Right..." she blushed. He walked to the curb and started flagging down a cab. One stopped and he opened the door for her to climb in. She said her thanks and was surprised when he climbed in after her. "Uh...where do I drop you off?"

"I'm taking you home. I mean, I'm going with you to make sure you're home safe."

"Dude, you live like four feet away."

He chuckled. "For a woman with such a capacious vocabulary, you astound me with your usage of the word 'dude'"

"Irrelevant." She scoffs. "You don't have to do this."

"What kind of rescuer would I be if I don't follow through with the validation of the damsel's safety and safe return to her chateau?"

She rolls her eyes and smiles. "You have got to stop reading Harlequin books. Trust me, go for Tolstoy instead."

This time he lets out a deep laugh. "To Queens, my good man." He addresses the driver and off they went.

"Happy New Year!"

Ryan Seacrest's voice boomed from the speakers, followed by New York's Times Square.

"Happy New Year!" She screams in the air, hands raised in jubilation, excitement and intoxication. She keeps her face tilted to the sky, refusing to open her eyes as she knows everyone around her is with someone, kissing like they'd die if they stop.

"Happy New Year" she whispers and lets the tears flow. She pushes her way through the crowd, panicked to the point of suffocation. She knows her friends are going to be looking for her and she hopes they'd understand why she's running. She runs and runs, finding a place where she can be away from the couples and their happiness. She finds herself on a street corner four blocks away from Times Square. She plants herself on the curb and just starts crying.

"Hey..." a gentle voice called her. "Are you okay? Are you lost?"

She doesn't look up because for one, she knows she looks horrible and two, she's sick and tired of people thinking she's a fucking child just because she's petite.

"Hey...miss?" A hand on her shoulder gently nudges her. She flinches and looks up. "It's okay...I'm not going to hurt you...Do you need a phone? Are you lost?"

She pulls out her cellphone from her pocket and shakes her head while hiccuping. He thought she was giving him her phone. "No...no..." the man chuckles softly. "I don't need a phone...Look, it's not safe for you to be out here alone near Central Park. Where are your parents?"

She couldn't help it. She laughs and cries at the same time. "I'm...(sob)...not...(laughs)...a kid...(sob)...I'm...(chuckle)..thirty-four!...(sob)"

The man laughs in spite of himself. "Okay then." He hands her a handkerchief as he sits next to her. She takes it gratefully and tries to regulate her breathing. "I'm just going to sit here until you're okay to talk. Is that okay?"

She nods as she wipes her tears with his hanky. They sit in silence for a few minutes. "Thank you" she whispers. "I may have ruined your handkerchief though."

"It's alright. Do you want coffee? We can go somewhere warmer and have coffee?"

She nods. "I'd like that"

He stands up and offers his hand for her to take to help her up. She takes it and they walk silently, side by side to a nearby Starbucks. She sits down on a chair and he gets the coffee. He came back with two cups, an assortment of sugar and creamers. "I don't know how you take your coffee, so I got the extras."

She offered him a small smile. "Thank you." She dug into her pockets for some cash to pay him back but he held out his hand to stop her. "I got this, don't worry"

"Thanks again." She stirred her sugars and creamer in, concentrating on her coffee as if it held the answers to universe's questions.

"You want to talk about it or is the silence better?"

She let out a soft laugh. "I'm not quite sure about that..."

"Sometimes it's better to wallow in silence and to contemplate on stuff. Sometimes it's necessary to let it out."

"Not that I don't appreciate this act of random kindness, but do you do this on a regular basis?"

"Do what?"

"Rescue crying women from New York Streets?"

He chuckled. "No, no I don't. You would be my first."

She smiled. "Okay...Thanks, again."

"Where are your friends? New Year, New York..." He trailed off.

"They're probably too busy being drunk on champagne and joy that they'll go apeshit in the morning realizing I'm not there."

"Why aren't you there? If you don't mind me asking..." He sipped his coffee - black with two sugars, she noted. His hands are beautiful big, nails looking professionally manicured.

"New year, New York. Couples. Kissing..." she points to herself "Sore thumb and third wheel"

"Aaah..." he said. "Say no more..."

"What about you?' she asked as she blew on her coffee to cool it down a bit.

"New year. New York. Boring party. Same people. Same drama." He points to himself "Needs a change"

"Aaahh...." she said. " I gotcha"

They sit in silence for a while. She's staring out the window and he's staring at her. She catches him looking at her and she blushes. "Your wife must be worried about you..."

"I don't have a wife. I have an ex. Not recent....you?"

"No, I don't have a wife." She grins. "I have an ex as well. Not recent either."

He chuckles. "You're funny."

She cocks her head to the side "It has been said...So, this ex wife of yours, a model?" she smirks.

"No." he chuckles. "Although you're not the first person to say that. Why do people say that?"

She shrugs "You look like the type. Very Donald Trump but with better hair."

He cocks an eyebrow "And The Donald always goes for models?"

She looks at him incredulously "Seriously?"

"Well...he sometimes goes for game show assistants."

A beat. Then, they both laugh.

"Why is he named The Donald anyway?" she scoffs

"The trappings of success, the privilege. It's about the status."

"Oh yeah? I don't hear people saying The Bill, or The Steve or even the Tommy"

"Clinton, Martin and Hillfiger?"

"Gates, Jobs and Motolla. And thanks, you've proven my point - or contested it...I think"

He laughed. "Like I said, It's about the notoriety of success."

"What about you? What's the name attached to your article of choice?"

"I'm just a Mikhail...A Mikhail" he extends his hand.

"I'm a Louise" she shakes the offered hand.