Boisterous laughs, clinking glass, the stench of sweat, another night at Turbo's that's become increasingly common. Add the fact that 'Chippin' In' just started playing & blasting, and the whole front lot became the pitch-perfect image for sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll, 2076 style. A better sight to see than most, yet not the one that drew you here. Not the sight of Rebecca doing another party trick with 'Guts', not Falco chatting up a couple of pretty faces with that cowboy suave, not even Kiwi's ever-mysterious aura as she takes another hit in the misty corner. Nope, yours was at the farthest edge, overshadowed in both senses.

Weaving through swaying bodies, knowing well you had three pairs of eyes on you while drawing close, you passed into shadow. Barely illuminated from the weak rays from afar, at the edge of this corner of the lot, there was nothing save for him. Him lying atop a tattered couch, idle as he stared into darkness, his blank look barely perceivable. One that now settled on you.

"Yeah, what?"