One Saturday night, in an alleyway next to a dive bar you sat, beat to a pulp in the corner. Blood dripped down your chin and onto the littered ground with various pieces of trash; glasses from numerous alcohols, plastic bags, etc., and you were just another piece of the trash that was lying on the ground. You had to admit, you were vulnerable, who wouldn’t be? It’s Seattle for Christ’s sake! The music scene is good, but not the people…as far as you knew.

The backstage door leading outside, and into the alleyway you were in, bursted open, a lady with shoulder-length, bleached hair and bright red lipstick and bright crimson lipstick on her lips came through, a cigarette lying between her index and her middle finger. She spotted you in the corner and her jaw dropped sympathetically.

“Hey are you OKAY?”

She whispered to you like one would to an abused animal, taking a cautious step towards you.