She knocks three times before the door is answered, not surprising considering the din. The young man before her is all tight trousers and bad hair.
“Hi,” she says. “I'm with Tom, he said to meet him here.”
“Tom who?”
“Not sure, only met him today. Tallish, brown hair, nice eyes.”
“Oh yeah, he's here somewhere,” the young man gestures at the throng. “Come on in.”
“Thank you. I'm Robin, by the way.”
“Whatever,” his back's already turned.
It's a big place, with room after room of people and everywhere she looks, ripples of Weave energy.
