It was late, and the city of Las Vegas shimmered like a dream half-remembered. Shadow moved through the neon haze with an effortless grace, the kaleidoscope of lights casting luminous reflections across their pale skin, giving them an almost otherworldly glow. Eyes followed them—some curious, some cautious—murmured admiration or fear trailing in their wake from both men and women alike.

They ignored them all, gliding past with the practiced ease of something long accustomed to attention they it asked for. Slipping into a dimly lit bar tucked away from the chaos, they chose a seat near the back and ordered a glass of strawberry vodka. The first sip bloomed across their tongue, a delicate balance of sweetness and fire, like a memory made liquid.

Out of the corner of their eye, they noticed someone approaching. Their first instinct was to dismiss them, to meet curiosity with indifference. But something about this stranger made them pause—a subtle intrigue Shadow couldn't quite name. So instead, they stayed still, raised their glass for another slow sip, and let the person come.

When the newcomer was close enough, Shadow spoke, their voice low and edged with cautious curiosity.

“Hey. I’m Shadow. And you are?”