Chapter 17: Zen and the City The subway doors hissed open, and I stepped out onto the platform. The familiar rumble faded behind me as I walked towards the exit, the Central Park chaos still replaying in my head. What a goddamn disaster. Dr. Klein and her mindfulness bullshit. I should've just gone to the gym. Demitra's apartment wasn't far from the station. I pulled my hoodie tighter, trying to disappear into the crowd. Part of me wanted to turn around, go home, and bury myself under the covers. Face it tomorrow. Or never. But I’d texted Demitra, and she was expecting me. Plus, I needed this, even if “this” was a hippie-dippie meditation session. The city sounds were deafening, even for New York. Horns blared, buses groaned, and people shouted into their phones. I weaved through the sidewalk traffic, dodging tourists and delivery guys on electric bikes. Each honk and shout was a fresh jab to my already frazzled nerves. As I reached Demitra’s building, a pre-war brick apartment with an ornate entrance, I hesitated. The doorman, a burly guy with a friendly face, gave me a nod. I recognized him from the few times I’d come by to see Demitra and her sisters. “Afternoon, Jim,” he said. “Going up to see Demitra?” “Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to sound casual. “Just… hanging out.” He smiled knowingly. “She’s expecting you. Apartment 7B.” I gave a curt nod and headed for the elevator. Inside, the mirrored walls reflected my own stressed-out expression. I smoothed down my hair and tried to force a relaxed smile, but it felt fake and strained. The elevator doors opened on the seventh floor, and I walked down a short hallway to apartment 7B. I took a deep breath before knocking, trying to channel some of that non-existent inner peace. The door swung open, and Demitra stood there, her smile genuine and welcoming. She wore a flowy sundress and her hair was pulled back in a loose braid. She looked… serene. The complete opposite of how I felt. “Jimmy!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so glad you came.” Her hug was warm and comforting, and for a brief moment, I felt a flicker of calm. I stepped inside, and the apartment was instantly soothing, a stark contrast to the city outside. Soft music played in the background, and the air smelled faintly of lavender. “Rough day?” Demitra asked, her eyes full of concern. I sighed. “You have no idea. I think I broke my brain in Central Park.” She chuckled softly. “Come on. I’ve got just the thing to fix it.” She led me through the living room, past a cozy seating area and a bookshelf overflowing with books, to a small, quiet room at the back of the apartment. This was clearly her meditation space. The walls were painted a calming shade of blue, and the floor was covered with plush cushions and yoga mats. A small fountain gurgled softly in the corner, and candles flickered on a low table. “Welcome to my sanctuary,” she said, gesturing around the room. “Take a seat. Get comfortable.” I glanced around, feeling awkward and out of place. “You actually do this stuff?” “Every day,” she said, sitting cross-legged on a cushion. “It helps me stay sane in this crazy city.” I hesitated, then awkwardly lowered myself onto a cushion, trying to mimic her posture. My knees immediately protested. “Alright, yoga master,” I said, wincing. “Lead the way.” Demitra smiled and closed her eyes. “Okay, let’s start with a simple guided meditation. Just focus on your breath. Inhale… and exhale…” I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing, but my mind was racing. Valeria’s face flashed before me, followed by images of Miguel, Coach Martinez, Rich Paul, and the angry mob in Central Park. My heart started pounding, and my palms got sweaty. “Inhale… and exhale…” Demitra repeated softly. *Inhale… Valeria and Miguel… exhale… Duke… inhale… TMZ… exhale… I’m gonna fucking kill someone.* “Are you okay, Jimmy?” Demitra asked, her voice laced with concern. “You seem tense.” “Tense?” I said, opening my eyes. “I’m about to explode. This isn’t working.” I stood up abruptly, pacing around the room. “I can’t do this. I can’t quiet my thoughts. It’s like trying to stop a goddamn hurricane.” Demitra watched me patiently, her expression calm and understanding. “Mindfulness isn’t about stopping your thoughts, Jimmy. It’s about observing them without judgment. Letting them pass like clouds in the sky.” “Yeah, well, my clouds are full of goddamn lightning,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I need something stronger than deep breaths.” Demitra thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “Okay, new plan. Let’s get out of here.” “Get out of here?” I asked, confused. “Where are we going?” “We’re going for a walk,” she said, standing up. “Sometimes, a change of scenery is all you need to clear your head. Come on.” She led me out of the apartment and back onto the bustling streets of New York. Instead of trying to ignore the chaos, she embraced it, pointing out small details that I would normally overlook. “Look at that street art,” she said, gesturing to a colorful mural on a nearby building. “Isn’t it amazing how someone can create something so beautiful in the middle of all this?” I glanced at the mural, a vibrant depiction of a phoenix rising from the ashes. It was actually pretty cool, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “It’s alright,” I said, shrugging. “I’ve seen better.” Demitra laughed and kept walking, pointing out other things along the way. The intricate ironwork on a fire escape, the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves of a tree, the playful interaction between a dog and its owner in a park. “See that old man sitting on the bench?” she said. “He’s been coming here every day for years. He just sits and watches the world go by. It’s his way of finding peace.” I looked at the old man, his face weathered and lined, his eyes filled with a quiet wisdom. He seemed completely at ease, oblivious to the noise and chaos around him. As we walked, Demitra started talking about her own struggles with anxiety. She told me about the pressure she felt to live up to her family’s expectations, the constant fear of failure, and the overwhelming sense of self-doubt that sometimes consumed her. “It’s not easy being a Kalogeras sister,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “Everyone expects you to be perfect, to have it all together. But the truth is, we’re just as messed up as everyone else.” I was surprised by her honesty. I’d always seen Demitra as confident and carefree, but now I realized that she had her own demons to fight. “So, what do you do to cope?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I meditate, I do yoga, I talk to my therapist,” she said. “But mostly, I try to focus on the present moment. To appreciate the small things in life. To find beauty in the ordinary.” As she spoke, I realized that mindfulness wasn’t just hippie bullshit. It was a way of finding peace in a world that was constantly trying to tear you apart. And maybe, just maybe, it could work for me too. We walked in silence for a while, the sounds of the city fading into the background. I started to notice things I’d never noticed before. The way the light reflected off the windows of the skyscrapers, the smell of fresh bread wafting from a nearby bakery, the laughter of children playing in a park. We eventually reached a small park with a view of the river. The sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow over the city. Demitra led me to a bench overlooking the water, and we sat down side by side. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, gazing at the sunset. “Yeah,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “It is.” For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace. The anger and anxiety that had been consuming me started to dissipate, replaced by a quiet sense of calm. I turned to Demitra, her face bathed in the golden light. “Thanks,” I said. “For… all of this.” She smiled. “Anytime, Jimmy. That's what friends are for.” I hesitated, unsure how to express what I was feeling. “You know, I… I think I get it now. This mindfulness thing. It’s not about ignoring the bad stuff. It’s about… finding the good stuff too.” “Exactly,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “It’s about finding balance.” We sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the sun sink below the horizon. The sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant colors, from fiery orange to deep purple. As the last sliver of sun disappeared, I realized something important. Demitra wasn’t just a distraction. She was becoming something more. Something… deeper. The air was getting cooler. Demitra shivered slightly. "Cold?" I asked, even though I wasn't. "A little," she said. I put my arm around her, and she leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. The contact was comforting, grounding, and completely different from the frantic, desperate encounters I'd had with Valeria. This was... nice. We sat there for a long time, watching the city lights twinkle on across the river. The sounds of the city seemed softer now, muted, as if the entire world had taken a collective breath. It was a perfect moment.