So, this is New York? (open)

"So, this is New York?" Ryan sighed as the cab was getting closer to his new home. He had never been in New York. Heck, he had never been outside of Jersey. And, quite honestly, New York - with all the 'Big-Apple-City-That-Never-Sleeps' jazz - wasn't really that impressing. Sure, it was big and populated and all but lacked any real style. The kind of style that got him in a good mood, the kind of style Jackson had - beautiful sights, the luxury of knowing all of your neighbours (and speaking of which, the luxury of having neighbours worth knowing). With New York lacking all of those things, Ryan was starting to doubt his decision to move away from home. New York wasn't even the capital of its own state!

The cab suddenly stopped. Ryan took a few moments to check his new building out while the fat Italian cabdriver was 'politely' holding his hand out. The building itself didn't look bad. Yeah, it was kind of small and looked cramped but at least it had a decent look and wasn't in one of those big neighbourhoods. Besides, he couldn't afford living here let alone in a fancier place without financial help from his father. And he really wanted to succeed on his own.

Ryan paid up and got off the cab. He got his luggage out of the trunk (with no help from his all-so-polite driver, naturally) and checked if everything was there - his bowling bag, containing 6 16 pound bowling balls and his bag of clothes, containing most of his wardrobe except the green shirt, dark jeans and flame jacket he had on, which was no less heavy than his bowling one. His guitar and violin were also carefully packed and tied so as not to fall down. The cab took off as soon as he collected all of his stuff and left Ryan in the middle of the street with luggage weighing roughly twice his own weight.

He let out another sigh and looked back at the building. Of course, he had to get his stuff up to the fifth floor alone. Ryan got his luggage up and tried to make a step, failing miserably and almost falling face-down on the ground. It was sad, really. With all of his powers and running speed, he couldn't even move 300-something pounds. Ryan sat on one of his bags for a while, thinking. With nobody to help him, he had to get his luggage up and, somehow, his power could help. He only had to figure out how.