It was night. I was walking home. Two days earlier I had been high from a kiss. Feeling in love. Tonight I was low as fuck. Feeling the sting from not hearing from him. The blurry line of fantasy and reality. But that is the power of the kiss. The power of wanting someone. The need to scream I love you into world. That's the magic of New York City, a love story on every corner. A heart waiting to feel like its on crack. A heart waiting to take a risk and anticipating to be broken. And so that night as I was walking home, I saw a couple kissing behind a window. I took the shot and that's how the series started. They had no idea. They'll never know. Maybe it was their first kiss. Maybe they were married. Maybe it was the last kiss before the divorce. Did they just have a fight. Was it an affair. I didn't care. Cause sometimes when the perfect moment, or that perfect kiss happens. Tomorrow doesn't exist and neither did yesterday. All bets are off the table and all you got is....

a New York City Love Story.