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“But what if something happens?”

An hour later, breathless and grinning like a maniac, she stepped onto the balcony. The city sprawled below, a circuit board of lights. A guy was leaning on the railing next to her. He wasn't on his phone. He was just… looking.

The amber glow of a setting Los Angeles sun bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of The Highlight Room. To anyone else, it was just another Thursday happy hour. To Mira Kwan, it was the premiere of her new life. uncut now playing

She then closed the phone, made a pour-over coffee without photographing it, and watched the steam rise until it vanished into the air.

She wasn't watching a show. She was in it. “But what if something happens

“Something is happening,” Jax said, nodding toward the DJ booth where a 70-year-old jazz drummer was laying down a live breakbeat over a synth pad. “That. Right there.”

“Lost?” he asked, not as an insult, but as a genuine question. He wasn't on his phone

“Put it in your bag,” Jax commanded, pointing at Mira’s gold iPhone.

Mira, trembling, slipped the phone into a Faraday bag—a gift from Jax—and zipped it shut. The silence of its absence was deafening. Then, the bass dropped.