Sarah jumps out from a bus and dug her hands into her pockets. A taxi driver palmed the horn as she kept her pace at the pedestrian on a red signal, her tousled hair swayed with the wires of her earphones blasting the latest album of Paramore. She walked around a man who stood on her way to discuss a charity organization, and ran over the hand of a woman taking a selfie on the sidewalk. She turned into an alleyway, tapped her wallet on a black sensor, and pushed a heavy fire door until it slammed on the back wall. Within minutes, she was in and out of the female changing room, now dressed in a corporate uniform with her nameplate fixed on her lapel. As another door closed behind her and the linoleum floors turned into marble, a curve slowly took shape in her lips, and with a gentle voice, she greets a lady on the other end of the reception desk. A few taps on the keyboard and an exchange of credit cards and keycards, the lady thanks her politely then walks away as the next person in the queue comes forward. Sarah’s mouth and hands moved with purpose, but her eyes stared at each person as if they were no different than the figures on the screen. It was the same eyes that looked passed the people on the street. Eyes that pointed on the floor. Eyes that once frequent the night sky to see the stars.