You’d found your way backstage after Leon’s show and though you hadn’t planned to garner his attention, you’d certainly succeeded. For someone in your position, it’s a dream come true—sprawled out topless on a leather couch with one of your idols snorting a thin line of white powder off your chest.

For Leon, it’s just another Saturday night with a groupie.

He rubs his nose, sitting back up with an ah. “Hey, what’s your name, anyway?” He asks, handing you the rolled up hundred (show off).