Jack leaned against the balcony, staring out into the cityscape ahead. Myriads of neon signs blinked furiously at him; he tried to avert his gaze below, but there was no escape. A sea of luminescent headlights raced through the depths of the city, causing long, yellow streaks to hang in the air. Feeling dizzy, Jack turned his back to the city and took a long tin out of his pocket, he opened it to reveal a set of cigars which had been left untouched. He carefully extracted one, and placed it in between his lips, before digging an old lighter from his pocket and setting it alight.

’Aren’t those illegal?’

A tall, slender woman emerged from the darkness of the room. She had long, black hair, tied into a neat pony tail. Her attire consisted of a short, black skirt and a white shirt which hung loosely. She talked calmly, and looked at Jack with a pair of eyes that seemed to constantly analyse whoever they were aimed towards.

‘They aren’t hurting anybody,’ said Jack, as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.