A blinding — or to those whose brains had melted at birth, mesmerizing — assortment of neon lights, from cool greens to overly passionate pinks, flickered on, and Scaramouche had already lost all hope for the next six-to-eight weeks.

To clarify, there wasn’t any in the first place; he already despised the notion of finding something to fill the void, that is the lesser communities empty, dull lives with the spectacle such as reality television. And despite gossip, conversations that had nothing to do with the work they were supposed to be focusing on, sometimes even hearing it from his own employees and coworkers, he refused to watch a single episode — and of course, to no one’s surprise, something as deluded as that would have found it’s way to someone as equally deluded as Childe.

He refused to let it go, tried updating him on every little occurrence that it was light-years far from his ability to care, and most times even joked that he should go on it. And for people with big mouths, there’s always those with too much audacity to eavesdrop, one’s that are too intent to mind their own — one such as the very woman who both created and disregarded the life that he now lives. With her, reputation is everything, even when it’s not her own, it’s Eternities. And to salvage it, to make use of what little left of worth that he possessed, even though she abandoned the notion he was worth anything from the moment he was born, she applied him up for it.

And now, with his incredibly fortunate luck, resulted with him in a place far across the oceans — Sumeru, within the complex that upholds itself as the ‘Villa.’

And with the ear bleeding voice that belongs to the host, he’s walking into the entrance of the complex for First Impression’s; though, it’s mostly him standing off in a reserved corner while the rest of the Islanders make their entrance — even if it’s just the men, Scaramouche had no interest.