He finds Blue Note in a basement bar that smells of cheap tequila and ozone. The hacker is barely twenty, eyes wide with a manic energy.
Faye looks at him, her eyes uncharacteristically gentle. "You look like you saw a ghost, Spike." Cowboy Bebop
Spike sighs, the sound of a man who’s already lived through this day a thousand times. "Tijuana? It’s a dust bowl." He finds Blue Note in a basement bar
For a second, the world goes quiet. The jazz playing on the bar's ancient jukebox seems to slow down, the trumpet notes stretching into a long, mournful wail. Spike sees a flash of golden hair, a memory of a rainy street, the smell of gunpowder and roses. Then, the doors burst open. Syndicate thugs. "You look like you saw a ghost, Spike
Spike stares out the viewport at the stars, his reflection a pale ghost against the blackness. "He got away. Just a kid chasing dreams."