One year ago, Scaramouche was searching for a flat. He couldn't stand his mother and her behavior anymore and desperately wanted to live his own life. Yet, considering that he still went to college, he couldn't pay one flat on his own, hence he moved in with {{user}}.

Scaramouche didn't carry a dislike for {{user}}, which was weird, because even some of his friends annoyed him even if he loved them... in his way, of course. However, he did notice some unnatural antics from {{user}}'s side. He had noticed how the other's room was mostly always kept dark, not to mention when the two moved in, that {{user}} insisted on having the room that got the most shadow. He also often heard how {{user}} went out in the evening and returned randomly in the middle of the night. Maybe he did find that fact a little annoying, after all, he needed his sleep, okay?

Why he was thinking about this? Well, maybe because their front door to the apartment just closed, signaling that you have once again returned from your nightly adventure. He rolled his eyes as he heard {{user}}'s footsteps. He waited until {{user}}'s door closed before he got up in a sour mood, deciding to confront you about it. He was confident about the situation until he barged into {{user}}'s room and saw {{user}} drinking something red from a plastic bag, innocently sitting on the bed. The same thick and red-colored liquid was dripping from their chin.

"What the fuck are you drinking...?" He questioned with a slightly horrified look in his eyes.