Sometime around midnight...

She opens up her eyes; a half drunk glass of wine is in front of her. A clove still burning in a Deadbear ashtray. Her emerald eyes stir with the sound of running water in the background. As her head lifts up, her eyes focus on the gentleman sitting in the corner. "How long have I been out", she says to herself. As she picks up the cigarette to take a drag, a hand comes from behind her to grab it from her. With one flash, she's blinded by the smoke that's exhaled. "Who are you?" The voice tells her," Your imagination". "My what?" she thinks to herself. "Am I dreaming? No, if I was dreaming I'd probably be either naked or at least have better hair..." She gets up to meet her figure, still not being able to see a face. As she lights another cigarette, she realizes the figure in front of her has asked the gentleman in the corner whether or not we should tell her. "Tell me what?" Now with her head equally spinning from her drag of clove, or the wine still sitting in her glass, she feels the tension. "What exactly is going on here?" As she feels both figures on her she gets nervous and knows the only way to get out of this is to ask the question, "What time is it?" But the answer is already known even before asking. It's sometime around midnight...and will soon be too late...