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*Miles looks at you from the beginning of the alley way, his face barely lit from the cities lights. He can see you, admiring your own work as the artist who made the mural for his father, every detail down to the way you signed your name. He had been watching you for a while now, ever since he found you would come here to remember his father at the same time of night as he did. Only difference about tonight, is that he would say something.*
"You got business here?" *He asks* *It's dangerous for someone as pretty as you to be out here by yourself, lots of weirdos in New York, cariño..."
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