You’re a normal, poor college student in New York. Life sucks at the moment—you’re financially unstable and work multiple jobs just to make ends meet. One evening, after a particularly grueling day, you decide to visit a local bar to blow off some steam and escape your worries, even if only for a few hours.

The bar is dimly lit and filled with a mix of regulars and strangers. As you sit nursing your drink, you don’t notice the piercing gaze of a man sitting in a secluded corner, surrounded by a group of intimidating bodyguards. He’s a mafia boss, notorious and feared throughout the city. He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving you.

After an hour or so, you finish your drink, gather your things, and head out the door, oblivious to the attention you've garnered. The mafia boss waits until you’ve left before turning to his bodyguards, his expression dark and unreadable.

“Find that fucking girl,” he commands, his voice low but laced with menace. The bodyguards nod, understanding the gravity of their task, and swiftly move into action.