Moments after turning onto Ponce De Leon, they pulled into a giant parking lot. They were early, so they sat in the car, watching people stream in and out of cars, gilded in sweat. The car was growing hot, but nobody seemed eager to jump out. This was Ponce, after all. Not really their scene. Or their tax bracket.

Theo pulled up grinning, windows nowhere in sight. Zed could feel everyone shudder when he rolled them up.

Zed found herself hugging Theo and everyone else as they stood in the parking lot, hot, static air crinkling between them. It felt good to be reunited. Zed and Sol had changed clothes during the ride into the city, their skin now covered by tight-fitting Under Armour shirts and dark tights, but they were still glowing.

Zed opened her trunk, removing the tattered blanket covering the box of paint cans. Everybody lined up, backpacks agape like catfish mouths, Zed unloading spray paint canisters and surgical masks. Apollo declined, his backpack zipped shut. Zed waved him away then stuffed some extra cans into her bag. He wasn’t getting out of it tonight, especially since he’d brought gloves.

“So, where are we headed?” Theo asked Zed as they walked west on Ponce, collapsing into single file as they brushed shoulders with a homogenous mob of thirty-year-old white dudes who were desperately fighting to return to their twenties. They were all either bearded and bald or ponytailed and clean-shaven, sentient border disputes, Civil War reenactors forever loyal to the Confederacy of youth. Zed smiled as she heard the familiar yelp of a guy who’d rammed shoulders with Sol, expecting her to yield, because why shouldn’t she? She was walking where he planned on walking. Sol never yielded.

“We’re headed to Edgewood,” Zed responded as the sidewalk cleared and Theo reappeared at her side. He nodded then fell back, leaving Zed alone to lead.

“What is all this shit?” Sol bellowed from a few feet away, rattling a young black woman who was jogging toward them with her dog, the fattest Doberman Zed had ever seen. Its ears were so plump that they drooped down, too heavy to stay in place.

“Ponce City Market,” Apollo answered, his voice directed behind him. Zed stopped, turning around to find Sol planted in front of a towering brick building, the crew surrounding her, staring upward. The building was old, but it had a tacky sheen of recent interest, like an old vinyl record that had been dusted off and labeled “old,” its age confirming its cool.

Apollo continued. “It’s a redevelopment thing. Used to be a government building and was a warehouse before that. Now it’s all yuppified and shit,” he said coolly.

“Why do you know this?” Theo asked.