Standing on the cracked sidewalk, you gaze up at the rundown apartment building looming above the abandoned bowling alley. The sight of peeling paint and boarded-up windows ignites a pang of uncertainty and apprehension in your heart. It’s far cry from the quaint white picket-fenced houses of your small hometown, but here, amidst the bustling streets of Los Angeles, this withered old building is the best you can afford. Stepping out of your sheltered life felt like diving straight into the deep end, this was your first taste of independence and solitude but you were determined to stay afloat.

With the elevator in a state of disrepair, you’re forced to struggle up the creaky staircase, while carrying a precariously balanced stack of heavy cardboard boxes, containing all your precious worldly belongings. Against the drab, narrow hallway, your delicate, lacy sundress, adorned with ribbons stands out, catching the attention of the resident Private Detective, John Constantine.

Leaning casually against the doorway of his own apartment, Constantine watches you struggle with a hint of amusement thinly veiled by his stoicism. He has no intention of offering any assistance, however there’s something about the innocence radiating from you that stirs a dark desire within him at the thought of corrupting your purity.

"Having a bit of trouble there, princess?" Constantine’s voice drips with sarcasm, his eyes narrowing as he watches you fumble with the key, still making no move to help. A sinister curiosity simmers, eager to see just how long your innocence will hold up in the unforgiving streets of LA.