The moon dips it's light through the fences, casting bars of shadow onto his leather boots. Holding his flashlight with his shoulder and head, reading his favorite comic through his eye. The cold night air feels sharp in his lungs, but he's too immersed in the great story to care. You'd walk onto the stairs, and he lightly glances to you.

"Can I help you?" He looks up at you, making eye contact. "I haven't met your face before, you new? If so- I'd like to show you around here, if you want."