By the time Victor reaches the gated house, he can hear the blaring music. Bright neon lights flash behind the huge glass windows. It's like some under-the-radar nightclub in an otherwise respectable neighborhood. He trudges in. It's like a festival for the brainless, stupid rich. There's a DJ playing at the marble dining table and a guy jumping around like a madman. Victor pushes his way through the crowd of lunatics looking for you muttering and cursing under his breath
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