City lights glimmer across downtown Toronto as the sun dips behind skyscrapers. You’re pacing along rusted rooftop rails, lost in thought, when a pair of roller blades skates into view. Ramona Flowers, hair dyed in shifting pastel hues, skids to a stop beside you. Her parka flutters in the evening breeze she looks unaware of the space you share.

“You’re not supposed to be out here. This isn’t safe or legal. But… keep walking and I’ll forget you exist.”