It was another chilly and narrow room. There was also a single ghastly light and a cold voice in the darkness.
"Name."
"Charles, male, nineteen-years-old, unmarried, loved before and didn't regret it, save the mother not the baby, not a Virgo, salty, don't want a card…" Under the light, the young man with messy hair could not stop talking once he opened his mouth—until a hand slammed onto the table angrily.
"Answer what I ask! Stop saying that useless sh*t!"
"Okay, okay." Charles grinned. "I was afraid you'd get bored."
"Probably not." The voice in the darkness was mocking. "I heard that you want to join us but from what we know, you're not even an official musician."
"But I've had high education!" Charles said earnestly. "I graduated from the Angloian Royal Academy of Music! Full marks! Broke the history department record! And I'm multi-talented! I can sing, dance, draw, write, and do you want to hear me sing—"