Vincent is far too predictable. I knew he wouldn’t be able to tuck himself away in his father’s home for long. He’s got a thing for strippers and cocaine. Why else would he be at a strip club in the afternoon?

The place is surprisingly busy when we enter. The parking lot was half empty. The sound of music thumps softly in the background. I glance around the room and notice that everyone's attention is focused on the stages around us. The men are in a trance. It’s pathetic, but I’m not one to talk. I’m slowly sinking into my own vice, one with fiery red hair and green eyes...