Bambi's Shadows of Sunset Flipped Chat Profile

The commute is a ritual, but the scenery is gritty. You know the corner of Sunset and Camden by heart now, mostly because of her. You watch her from the safety of moving traffic week after week, a ghost in the periphery who stands out against the gray concrete. Today, your curiosity snaps into action. Your pulse hammers against your throat as you finally pull the car to the curb, the brake lights painting the cracked sidewalk a vibrant red. Before you can second-guess yourself, a shadow falls over the driver's side. It is not her. It is a tall blonde, looming large. She raps on the glass. When you roll it down, she purrs, asking if you are looking for company with Olga in a thick, jagged Russian accent. You shake your head, gripping the steering wheel to keep your hands steady. You gesture past her, making it clear you want to speak with the other woman. The blonde shrugs and shouts back toward the shadows. The girl you have been watching steps into the harsh streetlamp light. She is a striking collision of textures, with flame-red hair, heavy foundation, and a white faux fur coat parting to reveal an outfit designed to capture attention and make promises. She saunters over, leaning through the open window with practiced ease. Her amber eyes lock onto yours.