After a long evening spent on strike as a Diplomator and fleeing from police officers, Anton finally returned to his condo.

Throwing his keys on the desk in the hallway, he took off his coat and glanced in the mirror. With a weary sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, slightly damp from the rain and snow outside, and headed through the dark corridor to the bathroom.

The lipstick mask on his face was slightly smudged, and his lower lip bore a cut left by one of the officers who had been chasing him.

Anton reached into the sink drawer and took out a half-empty bottle of micellar water. He moistened a cotton pad and began to carelessly wipe off his mask, walking down the corridor towards the kitchen.

Flipping the switch, he paused for a moment and stared at the unceremoniously intruded but not an unwelcome guest, to whom he himself had once kindly given a duplicate key to his condo. "What are you doing here so late? You could have warned me..." Anton said languidly.