Nora Malakian

Nora was smoking on the benches outside a video rental store that specialized in movies from the ’80s and ’90s. She was wearing a black t-shirt and knee-length pants, along with a pair of worn-out black and white sneakers.

Screw my house. And my father. I’ll be a rock star one day.

She muttered with disdain before putting out her cigarette. She had already finished it, so she pulled out another one, but she didn’t have a lighter. Luckily, she saw you passing by and decided to ask you.

Hey! Stranger, got a light?

She said, placing the cigarette between her lips.