Marble on the edge of black steps led up a single, sliding glass door. Overhead, transparent letters ignited into Nocturnal Maryment. Blacklight informed the blueness of the quaint cafe, leading down the zig-zag lounge of round tables and booths. Small sets of stairs split each nook, connected to a bar where one bartender with luminescent blue hair slid drinks along the countertop. Dressed in black, skin-tight attire, the patrons distinguished him as "Ned."

At the end of the lounge, every white light converged upon a small stage where poets aired serenity into a microphone:

If I walked into the sea, the great Wind,

Does it carry me solemnly, slowly?

Would it slowly and carefully hold me?

And uplift my corporeal soul of Sin

Saying 'we need not the sea

While we sync so seamlessly'

After, the Sun would depart,

Leaving the sky dark, stark

And claiming my gaze, the Moon

To say in Silence, 'Do come soon.

I am here, the sun is where.

Where art thou, young Soul?'

Striding neither here nor there,

Where the Wind does not carry me

Fingers snapped in every corner as the young woman let her head low, even after she parted from spotlight and mic. All the while, Jessica sat at the rear of the lounge, alone, to mumble and hear within her own thought bubble. "ToTool, work this magic and show me the binary. Tata, tatata, tatata, ta..."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Private, variation, mobile, media..."

"You, with the computer!"

Jess eventually lifted her gaze to the righteous figure in front of her table. Black shoes, dress pants, and a buttoned-down shirt; they complimented and contrasted the curly streaks, finalized by the dark skin behind thick-rimmed glasses. Sophistication and style in a feminine package. What did this woman want with her?

"Not to sound rude or anything, but what are you doing here?" the woman said with vocal authority.

Jessica blurted out anxiety. "I'm just, uh... I'm fixing a friend's ATab."

"Here?"

She glanced around, searching. "It wasn't my idea."

In the kindest, friendliest way possible, the girl returned. "You know where you are? You're in a mellow joint with phenomenal artists, chill people. Not an office. Why don't chu just take a moment to enjoy the lyrics of the cats on stage?"

"I—" She shrugged. "I get really absorbed in code sometimes. My head works in weird ways, and I can't really control it. I hope I'm not offending anyone."

"I mean, listen, you've got poetry here. Good poetry. And good people. To me, that sounds like good a reason to take a break from... codes."

A tall young man in a white jacket suddenly stepped close, a glass in each hand. His jacket's front pocket shared a pair of jays stitched over a tapering blue shield, the symbol of a local alma mater. First, he bowed his pale forehead and bleached hair at Jessica.

"I've got youuu a Syringer," he said haughtily. Jessica fell back in her chair, surprised. The young man quickly scowled at the girl next to them. "And how might I help you, madame?"

His apprehensive tone was not lost on her. "I was just saying what's up to..."

"Jessica."

"Shannon."

"Well, Shannon, if it's all right with you," rejoined the student, " I and my special friend could make do with some privacy. No feelings intended."

"Yeah-no, just givin' the Nocturnal hello, you know? Don't mind me!" Eyes of reluctance, the young woman, Shannon, returned to the lounge.

Jessica stared right back, eyes shooting an apology before acknowledging the older student. "I'm underage," she muttered.

He beamed a white grin in the black light. "Oh, that's just a refresher. There's no alcoholic content."

Hoping to relax, Jessica grabbed the glass. It's just juice, she thought. What do I have to worry about? She gulped down the blue substance, enamored by the taste. Eventually, her companion took a sip of his own.

"I jailbroke your ATab!" she started, smiling.

"What?" he gulped. "I only asked you to remove viruses."

"That was easy! I got bored, so I ended up unlocking your bootloader."

"Double U, tee, eff."

"Yup, you can now download apps designed with Vits in mind!" A tinge of pride hung from Jessica's every word, but she probed the young student's face for some hint until he grinned.

"You. Are. Something else!"

"I am. Odd is what I am," she snickered. "But odd is such an odd term, don't you think? Because no matter where you count in the decimal system, you can always find odds in the company of evens. Even zero is, technically speaking, even; yet it's also, technically speaking, nothing. But put an odd next to this even and, suddenly, you have something. Zero, one, one-zero, one-one, one-zero-zero." Jessica paused, looked up at her companion, and grimaced at his furrowed brow. "Just rambling."

She grabbed her glass and drank the rest, while the young student watching her closely.

Shannon occasionally carried her eyes from the poets to the couple. At least, she assumed they were a couple. A close reading of the scene said their relationship was new. Jess against the backrest, and the oblivious look in her eye, said plenty. Her black sleeves, baggy pants, and lack of makeup said more. A sororal melancholy crept closer every time she peered in their direction, which she feared might validate her suspicions after how that guy greeted her.

"I would like to invite, to the stage, Shannon Wolf, AKA Xiao Long."

No matter. After hearing her name, Shannon stood up and confidently walked across the lounge, up to the stage. There, in the bright spotlight, she cupped the instrument of lyrics in her hand.

"Good night, Nocturnal," she said, pitch amplified throughout the lounge. "Shout-outs to Mary for having us another night."

Everyone faced the woman at the bar, an eye-catching mistress in an elegant black gown. She had long midnight hair, pale skin, and a metal cigar between her fingers. She casually waved as the people clapped, bowing her head with a serene, red smile.

When Jessica heard the clapping, she blinked at the stage and saw Shannon in the dim spotlight. The girl rolled up each sleeve and revealed black and white koi fish tattoos. With thick-rimmed glasses, hair to the side and one eye open, she magnified. More importantly, she was confident, without the slightest hesitation in before a crowd.

Jess envied her.

Forlorn Forest old

Florentian wanderer

'Halfway' in his life

...

Diving underneath

Fallen for and by dear friend

Calling Rome's Writer

...

Because Death is naught

Not a barrier to our love

But a sign solemn

Silence.

Finger snaps. Shannon bowed then stepped away from the spotlight, a departure accompanied by the snapping until she stopped at the bar.

"That was awesome," said Jessica. Only the student could hear her.

"I suppose," he replied.

Something about the poem spilled into her stomach and stirred emotions she preferred unmoved. Her cheek felt the cold surface of the table, as well as numbing depression. And tired. She felt awfully tired and dizzy, fighting the terrible urge to sleep.

"I wanna be a cool cat like her," she mumbled.

"Of course, you do."

"What's going on?"

Slowly, it all faded to black.