Rain.<br/>Rain was falling over Miami in the night of 31th of July. For most people, it was a daily occurrence. Some even missed it, although most of them were simply inside a building.<br/>It was real tropical rain, almost torrential but it still wasn't enough to wash the city clean.<br/>But above the rain, the angels and demons waged a battle, in which humans were both mere pawns, and the big prize. Or so the homeless children in Miami knew. (http://www.miaminewtimes.com/1997-06-05/news/myths-over-miami/) Thus, they were almost the only ones who might have registered the dark shapes that seemed to fly through the rain, at the edge of people's vision and weren't there when anyone turned to look. The local ones were also the only ones that might have noticed said shapes swirling around five specific points in the city.<br/>But nobody listens to homeless children. And anyway, the dark shapes didn't exist, did they?<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">***<br/></div><br/>Susan was listening to a child. Her psychoanalyst would have taken notes just by watching the attention she was paying to the child's story.<br/>"I'm telling you, Sue... Satan is stealing people's souls!", Paco was explaining, mixing English with copious amounts of Spanish and passing from one to the other without even realising it. "You see those guys everyday, they start doing drogas, y los maricones... change. No es como people that started drugs - their eyes are empty even when they're not high. That's 'cuz they be low now - en el infierno! Y algunas no aparecen más at the street, like, at all!"<br/>At the same time, she received an SMS from "John".<br/>"Think u can patch up something 4 me mañana at the show?"<br/>"John" she knew only with this name, although it was more likely for him to be Paco's namesake than to really be called John. Whatever his real name, he had resorted to her services before, so they had exchanged coordinates. The guy was involved in organising illegal races, illegal pitfights, illegal dogfights... all of them things where people might get hurt-not him, of course. And if he needed her help, it was probably to prevent unwanted deaths in a dangerous competition. Bodies tended to attract flies and cops.<br/>The Latin Kings, and she suspected he might be involved with them, didn't like cops.<br/><br/><div align="center">***<br/></div><br/>Emily's superior passed nearby, and she stopped to consider the fact that her real boss haven't called her in days.<br/>Life wasn't bad for Emily, if a bit boring due to a general lack of attractive girls. Most of the ones in her extended company were either unattractive, in a relationship, or past lovers. But overall, life wasn't bad at all! When going to work yesterday, she had even seen an woman undressing herself in broad daylight, on the side of the traffic lane. Not that her body was anything special - Emily had little cause to be sorry the traffic didn't allow her to stop - but it was at least entertaining.<br/>Life seemed to be bad for a colleague at the architects' office, though. The man was an old-timer who still insisted on using only graph paper for his projects. Usually punctual, he had seemed distracted for the last couple of days, and she had caught him staring on the picture of his family. His daughter had wonderful skin, as far as she could tell. The boy in the picture, however, was a youngster who had dressed differently to the rest of the family. Obviously, they've been unable to persuade him to replace the baggy trousers even for a family picture.<br/>At the same time, she had yet to answer the e-mail from a colleague. The man seemed shy, and barely looked at her when she passed, but had also sent her an invitation for going out together and having dinner. Well, he didn't talk much.<br/><br/><div align="center">***</div><br/>Business wasn't going exactly well for Kelli. It wasn't that nobody needed a driver, but it seemed most people needed truck drivers more than racy ones.<br/>Her friend wasn't actually helpful, either. She seemed to talk mostly about castings and how she might get invited...<br/>She seemed to pause here, almost invariably, then pass to the next guy who had promised to invite her. But she definitely didn't seem uninterested in listening about business plans, or offering much help to make one. And she sure as hell didn't offer much help how to avoid racket from the Aryan Brotherhood, if she set up a small business.<br/>It was then that she got a call from a guy she had met earlier. She could remember his voice, his face, that his girlfriend was two years older at 21, but not the name... ah well, whatever. He remembered her, and had kept her phone.<br/>"Hey Kelli", the guy always seemed upbeat like a coke-user after sniffing. "I remembered you from a party, and your girlfriend mentioned you're into racing. I might need a driver for a job - are you free tonight? I can pay a reasonable sum for a couple hours work! You interested?"<br/><br/><div align="center">***</div><br/>Maria was hating her father. Well, maybe hating on her father.<br/>It's not that this hate was filling her whole existence - the hangover from last night seemed too strong to be ignored right now - but she remembered it immediately upon awaking. Hmm, she haven't gone to bed alone... where were they?<br/>Probably gone, she discovered after rapidly checking the room. And probably for the better. She could scarcely remember his name now, anyway.<br/>Still, she was wondering what to do. She knew there was going to be a show in Little Havana tonight - pitfighting seemed to be in vogue these days, or something. And there was going to be a party, of the hardcore-no-brakes kind, afterwards. And she had the phone of this chica she had met in the mall a couple days ago... somehow, Maria was too busy to call the last days, but she still had it.<br/>Still, it seemed she was missing something from last night. That was only natural after the celebrations, of course... What was she celebrating, again? Ah yes! She had learned the name of another person who was working for her father. Well, "with" her maybe-father, she guessed, given that this Mariano guy was a Latino king, and they seemed independent. Still, it made next to no difference to her. What mattered was, the list of names she had started to gather without a set plan was getting longer and longer...<br/>If only her head could stop hurting!