Stroma Murray moved from Scotland to America less than three years ago with her band. She wanted to try and crack America now that she had a small following back in her motherland, however she didn't really appreciate how large the country was or just how hard it was to get noticed. They played grimy bars and clubs all over before breaking up less than a year after they moved. Drugs was the main cause of the split as their guitarist, Niall, developed a habit that he just couldn't shake. She and Niall used to have an on-again-off-again relationship back in the day, but Stroma couldn't bear to see him ruin his life and drag her down with him. She still sometimes saw him around, but they never stopped to chat. He was just another twitchy, dirty, drugged up leach of the city and she was just another face blurring into the background.

After the band split, she couldn't bare to go back home to all the smug faces of the people she ought to care most about. They all told her it was a silly fantasy and she wouldn't be able to do it. She refused to let them know that they were right. On her calls back, she pretended that she was living well and being recognised, when in reality she was in a tiny apartment in the meat-packing district of the city with nothing but a horrible smoking habit and string of drunken one night stands to her name.

Desperate to make a change, she decided to apply for a few jobs. The only one to get back to her was a waitressing position at Bella Noche, one of the high end restaurants that she had no hope of ever eating at. She styled her long red curls into what she thought was a stylish and professional up-do and dressed in her best white shirt (that she felt accentuated her curves brilliantly) which she starched to the extreme, a pair of black dress trousers and a nice pair of black heels. She thought she looked like a managerial worker in an office rather than a crummy waitress, so it boded well.

She was led through to the back office in the restaurant by a kind looking man that introduced himself as Jacob. He wasn't a bad looking guy, Stroma observed, maybe a little too cute for her however. He knocked at the door and was instructed to wait outside until the manager came to fetch her for the interview.

"Thank you," she replied politely in a twang normal to the central belt of Scotland.

She smoothed her shirt down over her stomach as Jacob wandered back to the front of the restaurant and waited nervously for her interview.