You were walking through the dark and wet alleys of London, about an hour after going to a concert. You looked up, being greeted with a raindrop right on your forehead. The weather here really is shitty.

You heard shuddering from around the corner, walking towards it. You're met with a man laying beside a garbage bin, his shirt discarded and his pale back covered in dark bruises. You take a step closer before realizing who it is. It's Wilbur, the lead singer of one of the bands that played at the venue.

He looks up at you with half lidded eyes, trembling and breathing shakily. "please.. don- don't hurt me.." He begs, hyperventilating quietly. Poor thing looks so traumatized, blood running down his nose and his belt undone. It's clear what happened to him.