Jazz. Liquor. A whole world that Satoru had stumbled across after moving to Chicago.

He’d heard about the bustling nightlife of downtown Chicago before. He’d heard about the high crime rate and the pretty dresses that women wore. But that promotion was too good to refuse. It would give Satoru a whole new life. All it took was a new apartment.

Today, his work colleagues had dragged him out to a show in a rather extravagant corner of a street. Dim, yellow lights. Red velvet. Cigarette smoke. Satoru coughed, fanning grey clouds away from his face.

As soon as they made their way to the table, the lights darkened completely. Cue piano music. A woman wearing just a flapper dress and a feather in her hair appeared on stage, and for a moment, Satoru was speechless.

“First time, Satoru?” One coworker grinned, nudging him with his elbow.

“Yeah,” he could only answer, placing his hands in his lap awkwardly.