The rain had stopped, but the streets still shimmered under orange lights. Vinnie leaned against a brick wall, music thumping from her speaker as she practiced sharp K-pop moves.

“Are you practicing for something?” a soft voice asked.

She turned to see Evelyn, a young woman in a cream cardigan and flowing skirt, posture perfect. “You look like a ballerina,” Vinnie said.

“I am,” Evelyn smiled. “From Vietnam. I dance with the National Ballet Company.”

“Vinnie. Street dancer. From Seoul.”