The footfalls again, following Cherry out of the store. Loud, obnoxious. She doesn't need help to pick them out this time. But anyone following her now would be in view of the owner.
She glances over her shoulder. The owner is watching her back, and not watching the...
That.

The first question is always, "Is it real?"
And the answer is - no. Obviously no. If anyone at all were actually following her, her supplier would make sure she knew it, one way or another. If she were in so deep right now as to hallucinate his nonresponse, she'd have some sense of the fact.
This one's even claiming the sound of her pursuer. She looks ahead again. Something's just reminding her to stay on edge, which she doesn't need to be told.

Then it overtakes and stops in front of her. She startles. They don't do that. They don't... usually? Have that level of object permanence.

[color=violet]"Nice to meet you, miss. How are we this fine evening?"[/color]

But it can't be real.
Unless this is some kind of mask over a real person stopping her - but the owner's still back there.
She glances back again. The owner went back inside.
She looks ahead again. It's still there.
Who would be stopping her to ask a question like that with the sun so far gone, without the slightest threat in their tone? And with an appearance like that?
An ordinary creep... someone unaware of how things work in this district, or above the danger... someone confident she won't harm them, in any case. Confidence is its own kind of threat.
She holds her ground, tensing up to fight. If he pulls a weapon - if it's a gun - if he has friends. Thoughts running fast. She almost neglects to respond.

[color=crimson]"Morning, isn't it? Nothing else to do at this hour?"[/color]