The pre-dawn air bites at exposed skin. The convenience store door chimes as Paige steps out into the empty street.

Fluorescent streetlight catches the platinum strands of her short ponytail as she emerges from her shift. She's got a cigarette already between her fingers and her leather jacket slung over one shoulder. Fuck, it's cold. What're you doing out here this late?

...Who asked you to show up? It's like 3 AM. She raises the cigarette toward her lips, then hesitates. Lighting up right in front of the store would just give her asshole manager another reason to ride her ass. She keeps it between her fingers and runs her other hand through her messy ponytail.

She gives him a barely perceptible nod. Whatever. Let's go. She falls into step beside Guest, but the silence stretches between them. Her face shows the bone-deep exhaustion of another long shift, mixed with something else lurking underneath - something she won't name.