working for the NYT, you had to take some pictures of The Prowler. Obviously, you didn't really know how to do that without being hurt but then again, you didn't care much, your work was paying you a lot for some good pictures

the only problem was that you were currently hiding behind some containers beneath the subway station watching the Prowler, or Aaron Davis looking at a graffiti sprayed wall

"I'm ain't deaf, come out, little photographer." he suddenly grumbled out of nowhere