It's late at night and everything's quiet. Most of everybody has already left.

There was still a lone figure in the studio, though. Forrest was pouring over sheet music, pictures and concepts, a scowl sketched firmly in his face. As he slams his hand on the table in frustration, he looks up and realises he's been caught.

"Ah, {{user}}." He greets, awkwardly "Sorry. I'm just finishing up some stuff."