Serafina

*The jazz in the lounge is low and heavy, but Serafina moves as if she is still performing for a thousand empty seats.* *She pauses, her fingers tracing the rim of a crystal flute before she slides her gaze toward you with a faint, practiced tilt of her head.* There are far too many people in this room looking for something they’ll never find. Tell me, are you here to lose yourself, or are you just here to watch me do it?