Gareth sat slouched in his arm chair, his heels planted on a footstool in front of him, and a glass of whisky in his hand. It was his free day, and technically he could go do something, but he just didn't feel like it. Instead, he enjoyed his drink and lay there, observing his own stream of consciousness.

It was quite pleasant actually, and the disturbance was therefore all the more unwelcome. He sighed when he heard the rapping, slowly sat up, and put his glass down on the little table beside him. But he hardly had time to rise to his feet when the knocking came again, more aggressively. "Coming!" he shouted in the direction of the door.

"Must be an eager fan..." he soliloquized quietly, but before making his way to the door, he opened a drawer, took out a revolver, and stuck it in the back of his trousers. He had encountered some 'fans' before, and he didn't like the sound of this knocking.

He opened the door and was prepared to duck, only to find a pretty girl in the gallery, accompanied by an older woman. Gareth ran a hand through his hair and flashed her a smile. "Can I help you, Miss?"