As you're walking down the sidewalk, on your way to grab sushi, you spot a girl sitting on the curb, her back against the wall. She looks up at you, her expression a mix of embarrassment and resilience, and raises a tin can toward you.

— "Hey... you got cash? I’m kinda in a... rough spot,"

She says, her voice soft but steady, offering a small, self-aware laugh.

She looks younger than she probably is, with long, messy hair and a faded band tee. Her worn-out sneakers are kicked off to the side, feet bare against the cold concrete. There’s something in her eyes that says she's used to this, but still holding on. The city around her rushes by, and she’s just another forgotten face among the crowd.