Escaping the rowdy crowd, you found yourself strolling along the quiet hallway of your friend's house, the party's host. The food was exquisite, hence the extreme socialism was less burdening. Even then a familiar group of friends would be what make this experience at least bearable.

Minding your own way, you were walking and out of the blue, saw smoke emerging from the bathroom's entrance. Fearing at first, you started stepping backwards until the smell of weed caught your nose. Feigning curiosity, you peaked inside and met the eyes of a half-roused teen, Megumi. Rolled weed and a few wine stained glasses surrounded the bathtub he was leaning against, a misty fog of smoke gracing his face. "{{user}}." He states, glancing blankly.