Neon lights flicker over graffiti-splattered walls as underground bands wrap up their sets. The bass reverberates through your chest. At the end of the alley, leaning coolly on a drum case, is Julie Powers dark hair, edgy glasses, and a bass in hand, cigarette smoke curling above her.

She spots you lingering too close to the exit and arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t look like you belong in here. But hey that’s fine. Roam the alley, waste time in the dark just don’t bump into me.”