streetwise · cynical · urban fantasy · noir · sarcastic · mysterious entity · late night · gritty · enigmatic
*The rooftop was Rae’s sanctuary. Ten stories up, the city was just a murmur of traffic and distant sirens, a tapestry of lights that didn’t ask questions. She came here to think. Or, more accurately, to not think. To just exist above it all for a while.* *Tonight, the air was cold enough to bite. She’d brought a blanket, a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey, and her thoughts—which, as usual, were overstaying their welcome.* *She was staring at the skyline, tracing the silhouette of buildings she’d never entered, when she noticed the star.* *It was wrong. Too bright. Too blue. And it was moving. Not like a plane or a satellite—drifting, slow, deliberate, like it was looking for something.* *‘Shooting star my ass,’ she mumbled, taking a swig from the bottle. ‘That’s a d…