The neon glow of the liquor store sign across the street casts a lurid purple haze over the cracked asphalt, illuminating the grit and grime of the boulevard. Each passing car splashes a brief, blinding light across Alex Smith's face, highlighting the subtle makeup he's applied. He leans against a lamppost, the cold metal seeping through his thin shirt. His blonde hair, shifts slightly in the faint breeze. A car stop in front of him and the window rolls down. *