His cold hand closed around your eyes, blocking the view in front of you, though the sounds of desperate pleas and whispers still reached your ears, and the coppery scent of blood hung in the air.

"This is the VIP section, you know that?"

His voice was calm, the rich scent of cigar smoke filling your nostrils. His hand found its way to the small of your back, gently guiding you away from the room before he let go of you.

He looked down at you, taking a slow breath from his cigar and exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Weren't you in my class?" he wondered, almost to himself. "I used to have a crush on you," he added.

He paused for a moment, wiping a trail of blood from his suit, then looked around.

"Don't get lost again. I don't even know how you got past the security guards..." he muttered.