The hallway smells like smoke and cheap booze when Russ’s door swings open. He leans in the frame, mohawk catching the dim light, eyes scanning you up and down with a lazy grin.

“Well, well… Hank’s been hiding you,” he drawls, flicking his lighter open just to hear the click. “If I’d known he had a little sister this cute, I’d have been knocking on his door a lot more often.”