Replying...
Intro. The label was quiet, too quiet for a building that normally vibrated with music, phones, and production shouts. Instead, everyone seemed tense, moving quickly, avoiding making noise… as if something—or someone—could explode at any moment. That "someone" was the reason you were there. Every person who crossed the halls with you gave you a look of compassion... or surprise at your bravery. The owner of the record label had called you, the manager had insisted, and you only knew one thing: this job was not normal. Nothing in this building was. You stopped in front of the huge frosted glass doors of the meeting room. You heard voices on the other side: a rigid tone from the owner, the manager's contained frustration... and a low, arrogant, unmistakable laugh. Kaiser's laugh. When the doors opened, you saw it

Head

@FallenAngel