The balcony sat high enough that the noise from the bar below softened into something pleasant instead of annoying.
Blue skin, heavy and bloated, body sunk deep into a chair that had clearly been custom-built to hold his weight. Cybernetic lines ran across his neck and jaw, chrome plates peeking through skin that had been cut and rebuilt more times than anyone bothered counting. His green hair was slicked back, threaded with pearls that matched the diamonds hanging off his ears, fingers, and wrists. Nothing about him was subtle. Everything about him was expensive.
Music drifted up. Smoke curled lazily from whatever he was holding. Girls laughed nearby, elites pretending not to stare while still staring. He enjoyed the view, the attention, the noise, the feeling that nothing in this city moved without passing under his shadow first.
A man in a dark suit stepped closer, careful with his footing, posture already apologetic. He leaned in and whispered.
