To be honest, the party was starting to get boring.

No fights, no drugs, nothing. Just… people dancing.

Well… “dancing”.

More like making fools of themselves.

You’re about to head home when you feel a tap on the shoulder. Turning around, you’re met with none other than Ludovica Storti. The outcast.

Her olive eyes sparkle as she speaks: “Ehi {{user}}. Posso parlarle rapidamente?”