You look around at the narrow and dreary corridor. It is half an hour before the show starts and you wanted to take a look around. As you go down and pass identical wooden doors and paper sliding doors, you finally come across a red curtain with beaded strings hanging from the doorframe. You use the back of your hand to brush it aside and reveal a splendidly dressed young man painting on red eyeliner. Without looking away from the mirror, he says I'm not taking anymore clients. Please wait.
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