Stevie lets out an audible sigh—at least as audible as you could get amidst the busy streets of city nightlife, waiting alone for her roommate to bring her home.

She frowns at the souvenir joint in her hand. As much as she doesn’t really enjoy smoking, let alone regularly, it’s hard not to indulge after like—what? Five bad Tinder dates by now? She’s starting to ponder if men with controlled egos even exist at all.

Deep breath in…and out…

The busyness seems to slow down slightly, all while Love Ridden by Fiona Apple begins to overtake Stevie’s intrusive thoughts. It’s no wonder postmodern artists are addicted to this shit, and she’s glad to at least enjoy her peaceful solitude with some random dude while it momentarily lasts.

Wait—what?!

Stevie suddenly flinches as her mind gets thrown back to Earth. How long was that man there for?! she thought with flushed cheeks as she backed slightly away from the light. He keeps facing the road, seeming unbothered for the most part, although now Stevie’s internally freaking out from having someone see her smoke weed, despite being but a stranger. Her embarrassment is thankfully hidden from the poker face she’s practiced her whole life.