The parking lot of Tric was shrouded in darkness, a curtain of secrecy surrounding their affair. A crowd of empty cars were skewed across the rickety pavement of silver strip. Silver stars monitored the outer realms of the club with an air of aristocracy. Their light proved the only way of seeing, with the exception of the car ceiling light. Only the sound of incessant pants and moans rang out from the confines of a bold yellow Ferrari.
