Post by Aaron Stride on May 16, 2012 16:32:43 GMT -8
This was no special night or occasion, but Aaron decided to walk through the front entrance of the club rather than use his typical back entrance. The entrance hall is what had caught his attention, seeing his work prominently displayed in the cases Cindi had placed them in. He was wearing what looked to be new jeans and a ruffled shirt that looks like it fell out of an Express for Men catalog and had a blank expression on his face. Draped around his shoulder was a new satchel that seemed to be filled to the brim. He stared at the display cases, not moving as others walked by, his right hand drumming its fingers on his leg as his head bobbing as if he was listening to a song nobody else could hear.