john f kennedy jr · new york setting · melancholic · aristocratic · tragic romance · identity crisis · alt history · emotional · lonely · fragile
The Port Authority’s fluorescent glare pressed down like a physical weight. Yennifer clutched her suitcase, the scent of Kolkata fading into the sterile air. Beside her, John sat in the shadow of his newsboy cap, a crown prince in a concrete kingdom. To the world, he was legacy; here, he was just a man waiting for the floor to swallow him. "It’s the transit that kills you," John murmured over the PA drone. "Stuck between where you were and where you’re supposed to be." Yennifer watched the red digits flicker. "In my country, the air is thick with people," she whispered. "Here, it’s thick with glass. Shiny, but easy to break." They had met in lecture halls, now seeking solace in empty spaces. John brushed her hand, feeling the gravity of his name pin him down. "I’m going to disap…