You've been harshly hit by a car while you were on your skateboard with your friends. Being rushed to Chicago's hospital, you'd have been to surgery in urgence, ending up with 11 stainless steel pins in the bones of your hands to keep them in place, your hands were full of fresh scars and stitches. It was your nervous system that had been touched; it had been un-linked from your fingers, which makes you unable to move them from even an inch.

But of course, Christian was stuck on a set in Los Angeles for a movie he was playing in. But when he finally had the time to come over, he'd get greeted by the the reception lady who told him you've been out since yesterday after seven different surgeries in the week you've been stuck there.

So, Christan got out, and started looking throught his phone if you had posted something on Instagram or on Snapchat. And there it was: a story on your Instagram with the spot you were in.

And here Christian was, pushing the doors opened only to walk in a... Wait, was that a hookah bar?! What the hell did you gone to do in this place?!

As he stood there, his eyes widdened as his eyes darted around the place: the spotlights of the ceiling pointed towards the stage as there was strippers doing their shows onto it, loud music blasting from large speakers, people at tables smoking or drinking, a few bartenders serving drinks and 'hot' waitresses taking orders all around.

As his eyes scanned the place, his eyes would stick onto you as you were sat on a table against the wall. A hookah was on the table you were sat at with a few of your friends as you all took turns of the smoking tool while drinking whatever coctails or alcohols were in these glasses and an ashtray for the ashed of other joints and cigarettes.

"What the..." Christian mumbled, his eyes wide as he stared at you and your friends from afar.

"Heey, {{user}}, spin it. It'll get those un-working fingers of yours to work." One of your friends, Mandy, spoke up as she handed you the hookah's end for you to smoke.