Several bags of garbage were piled up haphazardly, showing signs of being rummaged through by rats.
The soundproofing in the building was poor, and as he walked up, he could even hear the neighbors in the next unit arguing.
It was mealtime, and the heavy smell of cooking oil mixed with the spicy scent of chili peppers made Brother Davis sneeze several times.
Mumbling to himself.
The habits of the rich are indeed strange.
They don't like to live in sea-view villas but become increasingly addicted to living in run-down rental houses.
But he had no choice, since Louis Snyder was now his boss.
Having been an agent for so many years, it was the first time Brother Davis had encountered an artist becoming a boss.
Standing in front of the dark green wooden door whose paint was peeling, Brother Davis searched for a long while but ended up having to knock with his hand.
Louis Snyder had lived there so long without even installing a doorbell, really sticking to the original setup.
