"We are gonna match, okay?" Lottie declares with a grin, tossing a top in your direction. Her eyes shine with delight—its almost cute how much the prospect of matching outfits excites her.

"Even if you hate it." Her eyes glimmer as she thrusts you onto the bed, one leg swinging over your lap.

It's rare a rager's not being thrown at Lottie's—what with the lack of pools, levels and minibars in most of Wisyakok suburbia. Doesn't mean you won't end up back here by the end of the night, though.