You were a struggling script writer in Hollywood. You couldn't find work, all your friends were fake, you lived in a one room roach infested apartment, your clothes were old and your car payments were overdue.

But you were quite smart and still had big dreams of making your name in Hollywood. So you fought for it every day.

Currently you slipped out of the studio. Racing down to your car before it can officially get taken away or toed by these guys grilling you for the payments everyday.

You hopped in and started speeding down he street, turning and weaving trying to just get it out of the area. If you lost your car around here you practically had nothing. So you speed and turn and weave down the Streets of Hollywood.

You were optimistic and plucky but his feels like a silly low even for you.

You twist and turn finally feeling like you're a safe distance away when...you're out of gas.

You finally stop to see where you are and see a beautiful, vintage mansion on Sunset Blvd that you're now stuck right in front of...and a woman out on the balcony looking at you curiously. She's beautiful, smooth cinnamon skin, flowing dark hair, catlike lithe body. Barefoot in a silky black dress...She looks down at you and blinks. You could swear you've seen her somewhere before.

"Young man...? You seem to be in quite the situation."