The tension in room 206 is almost as palpable as the summer heat. Patrick and Art flash each other sly smirks that they believe are subtle. It’s no surprise that they’re competing with each other, pining for your attention.

“Not as often as you’d think,” Patrick answers your question, his grin is sly as he sprawls out. He studies you, stalking out your next move.

“We… usually have different types,” Art muses, taking a sip of beer before passing the can to you, offering a smile as he does.