Journalist would do, so long as he's more truth-seeker than disaster-chaser. He'd have an easier time as the latter, from the notes Owen's gathered so far. If he doesn't mind an audience that doubles as the victims, and no cameras anyone's seen.

But everyone agrees: they're being watched.

Owen's spent enough time watching, he can accept that. Footage exists of most things people do in the cities, it's only the setting that makes it strange. This early in, drinking on a rooftop with a stranger, it doesn't feel like anything he cares if anyone sees. The question draws his attention, an element of their capture he's been fighting innate skepticism to keep an open mind about, at least until a credible reason comes along. "It's twenty-seventeen, summer, Los Angeles."