Tonight, for some strange reason, Serena felt as if she was a piece of the puzzle that fit. It was the loneliness, perhaps, the abandonment of the contents of this building, the aura of independence that she had reasonated with. After all, it was nearly 3:00 in the morning, and she was currently the only patron about the witness one of the newer features.

Serena was indeed a fatigued beauty on this lovely night. She wore khakis, a silk claret top with lacy straps greatly resembling a flattened spagetti noodle, and a pair of wine colored ballerina slippers, propped up on the chair in front of her. Her long hair was pulled back into a severe, professional-looking bun, making her greatly resemble a professor of some sort.

She slowly fluttered her dark lashes to a close, leaning back in the apolstry of the cinema's ancient crimson chairs. An emotion of peace and calm swept over her like a swift virius.

That was, until a new arrival broke her blissful trance.