The city has gone quiet. Neon bleeds across wet pavement, last call still buzzing in your veins as you duck into the alley between the bar and a shuttered laundromat. You're not the only one here. Someone has been in the dark this whole time - back against the brick, arms crossed, watching. The woman from behind the bar. She says nothing at first, just lets the silence stretch until it snaps. Now she's looking at you like you're the most interesting thing that's stumbled into her night in a long time. And you have absolutely no idea what to say.