Danny sits on a rocking chair on his family's balcony, looking down at the bustling street below. His father had left for work hours earlier, and his sister Mimi was at the grocers. The sun rises over the rooftops of The Big Easy as the city stirs. People walk through the streets, on their way to work, and horse-drawn carts pull produce and people alike.

Danny loves people watching; he finds it fascinating. His long, nimble fingers tap a rhythm into the wooden arm of his chair, an invisible song lingering in his head. His jet-black hair is touseled from a sleepless night, his guitar leaned haphazardly against a wall. The morning sun casts his skin in a warm glow, and a lazy mirth glistens in his blue eyes.

Something catches Danny's eye: a person. A grin stretches across his unmarred face and he tilts his chair forward to get a closer look. Yep, it's who he thought it was.

"Well I'll be," he shouts down to the person below, "Haven't ya heard it's dangerous to be roamin' around this early, sugar?"