Lennon furrows her brow. “Dark hair.. brown eyes.. I-I think.” She sighs, then her expression brightens. “If I remember correctly, he worked here, and we have records of everyone that’s ever contributed, even our most enthused audience members. He should be in there; I [i]know[/i] I’ll recognize him. I just can’t think of it right now.” She sighs and sits on the floor, her head leaning back. Tears glisten on her cheeks as she whispers, “Sorry.”

Zenith cracks open an eye, and startled, she falls with a small shriek. She rubs her head. “Hi.”