The rather large wooden door swung open, brushing against the plush carpet of the posh office. The man in the desk looked up briefly. "Benjamin, a pleasure to see you."

Benny strode up to him, and put his palms on the edge of the desk, looking down at him. "Where's Mark?"

"What?" the man asked. "Oh, you mean Mr. Cohen, Ms. Johnson's friend, correct?"

"Yes," Benny seethed. "With all due respect, Mr. Grey, that idea was way out of line, not to mention illegal and immoral. So, I'll ask without involving the police or making a scene: Where is my friend?"

Mr. Grey stood up, brushing some nonexistent dirt off of his spotless pants. "Benjamin, Benjamin, Benjamin, haven't I taught you anything? Business before pleasantries, family before friends? This studio is the key to our futures, to Alison's future, and that protest is in direct obstruction of our plans." He paused. "You do want my daughter to have a good future, I assume."

Benny sighed. "I do, but-"

"But nothing. One way or another, we are going to convince Ms. Johnson to cancel that protest, of her own free will, without the police, and, more importantly, without besmirching our good name."

"They'll do everything in their power to besmirch that name if this goes on any longer!"

"Nobody cares about a bunch of ragamuffin Alphabet City bohemians, Benjamin!" Mr. Grey exclaimed. "They are nothing! They are worthless street punks, stupid children, and, dare I say it, losers! They should have learned like the rest of the world, like you and I, that being minstrels and painters won't get them anywhere in life, that a nice diploma hanging on the wall is the only thing that can assure you safety in the world."

Benny opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. If he wanted to help Mark, arguing with the man in charge wouldn't help. He sighed. "I suppose you're right, sir. But, if it's not too much to ask, may I have your permission to visit Mark? I might be able to talk some sense into him."

Mr. Grey smiled warmly. "Of course, Benjamin." He picked up the phone. "Lorraine, call Jonathan, please. Yes, that's the place." He put down the phone. "A car should be here for you shortly."

Benny smiled uncomfortably. "Thank you, sir."

Mr. Grey grinned. "Oh, no problem whatsoever. Hopefully, you'll be able to persuade Mr. Cohen." He opened the door. "Now, shoo! The car will be here any minute!" Benny walked out the door, his composure set once again, as he strode towards the front entrance, where a limousine waited for him. As the car pulled away, Mr. Grey picked up the phone again. "Richard? It's me. Listen closely…"