A wandering tune fills the air. Sebastian stands in the station, waiting for the next train. He feels a nudge on his shoulder as the person next to him leans on him to let another person pass.

"Sorry." Sebastian apologizes unnecessarily.

The station is packed. Standing room only. A sea of passengers all eagerly wait for the same Ore. The energy of the room buzzes with an uneasy anticipation, but is balanced out by the calming strums of a guitar. At the edge of the crowd, sitting atop the base of an enormous pillar, a raggedly dressed man plays an impeccable, forest green, acoustic guitar. His hair and beard have both been left to grow unchecked for a long time. The worn-down burgundy leather jacket that drapes over his shoulders looks like it was once worth a lot. His guitar case lays on the ground, open and ready for any tips that may fall in. Its bright red inlay pops out from the sea of white architecture that surrounds it. This man is homeless—a rare sight in this city. Sebastian tries to recall the last time he had seen one, but comes up short.

Two Lunar Vanguard soldiers enter the room. They immediately make their way towards the guitarist. The music stops. Several onlookers in the crowd quietly wait to see what will happen next—Sebastian is one of them. One of the soldiers grabs the guitarist’s hand, pulling it forward to reveal his arm. Presumably, the soldier is checking the guitarist’s Lunar signature. However, in place of where the signature should be, there is instead a dark mark. Sebastian can’t see it very well from where he stands, but the mark looks like a large, black gash. There’s something unnerving about this mark. It carries the same energy as a grievous wound. The guitarist’s eyes become distant, the expression on his face bears a particular shade of shame.

"Come with us." One of the soldiers commands.

The crowd watches silently as the guitarist is taken away. Just then, a gentle bell toll rings throughout the station. The train has arrived.

…

There is a commotion at the car entrance. It sounds like someone slamming on the closed doors. Sebastian hears a voice shouting from outside. The train doors hiss open and someone hops inside.

"Thank you! Thank you!" A woman shouts happily.

The security door opens with a beep as her signature is scanned. Sebastian looks at the empty seat next to him. The woman’s forceful footsteps approach. The first thing he sees are her boots. Knee-high scuffed glossy black with platform heels and three little chrome spikes over the toes. Her attire, in contrast, is modest and conservative—basic work slacks and a heather grey pullover sweater. The coffee stains on her sweater and the vibrant green apron folded and tucked under her arm are immediate tells that she works as a barista at Stubb’s.

"This seat taken, love?" She asks.

Sebastian looks up. The woman is wearing a thick black eye-liner and her hair is dyed purple, black, and orange—like a sunset. He blinks his eyes, realizing that he’s been staring.

"No, it’s open." He responds, scooting over to make a bit more room.

"Thank you." She sits down and immediately pulls out her phone. "You get a good look?"

"Oh. Um. Sorry, I’m just really tired—"

"Uh huh. I’ve been dealing with that all day. Well, I’m off the clock now, so…" Her eyes never leave her phone screen, which is set to max brightness. The flashing lights and colors of her social media feed reflect off her pale face.

"Sorry." Sebastian apologizes again as he awkwardly turns towards the window.

It’s just going to be one of those rides. He’s clearly catching the tail end of someone else’s bad morning. He contends with the fact that he won’t be able to look to his right for the remainder of the trip. Why does this day insist on being so eventful?

…

Another panicked line of passengers forms as soon as the train stops. Watching it form, Sebastian considers waiting for the line to clear out before he gets up. The goth barista stares forward at her screen, watching an advertisement for an upcoming medical trial.

"We here at Serifm Labs are excited to take the necessary legal steps towards realizing the dream of market-ready cybernetic augmentations! Enrollment is now open to the public for our latest round of test trials! Accepted applicants will receive a ten thousand dollar reward up-front as well as a three thousand dollar bi-weekly stipend for every month of participation! Tap your phone to the screen to learn more!"

She taps her phone screen and begins swiping through the long scroll of legal text that appears on it. The train doors open and the line begins to shrink.

"Oh. Um. Excuse me…" Sebastian says.

"Hm?" She follows Sebastian’s eyes towards the exiting crowd. "Oh! Apologies! I thought you were attempting a conversation, or something."

She leaves quickly. Sebastian shakes his head and looks away, fearing that watching her leave might spark another awkward exchange. It’s not even noon yet and he’s already exhausted.