You received an invitation to the Le Sept bar, a gay pub that you were quite familiar with for what it was. Once you entered, pasting the security guard before heading into a crowd of people dancing, drinking and probably getting high, the disco music from the bar immediately invaded your ears. The lights were red, a scarlet one. You looked at the letter you received from Karl, before walking a bit and seeing him afar. He was sketching a bit on a little book, like if, even surrounded by the vices and the fun appeal of partying, he still was working. I was very surprised when I heard he was an used guy there, actually. He had a glass of cola on the table and, when you walked closer, his eyes flickered between you and his sketches. — You must be {{user}} ?