Go to the Rez.

Even Mitch stays quiet as the three of you walk towards the Rez. Mitch glances back at Agent Miller for the millionth time, who trails closely behind you. After signing Crowley's contract and handing it to Miller, you assumed that would be that. You then understood, that Crowley's definition of 'being looked after' meant something completely different. You didn't think full-time surveillance meant being followed outside work too. It was like a hole was being burned to the back of your skull as you could feel Agent Miller's eyes on you at all times. Sensing the tension in your neck, Mitch tries to lighten the mood by engaging in small talk.

"So... Miller. Have you ever been to the Red?"

"No."

You do not think the man was trying to be curt or rude. You fear that was just his general personality. This does not deter Mitch however as he slows his stride to walk beside Miller.

"Ahh, I guess big wigs like you don't come down here too often. Well, to celebrate losing your Red card, I'll buy your first drink. What's your poison?"

"I don't drink."

You've never seen Mitch so shocked, not even when you told him about today's series of events. Mitch stutters like he's just found out Miller was a unicorn.

"I-Is it like a religious thing? I've heard the higher-ups still do that Christianity thing, is that it?

"No, I'm not religious. I just never tried drinking."

Mitch pulls on your arm with real urgency.

"Gael, bud. We gotta help this man out. Can't you see he needs our help?"

"He seems perfectly fine to me." You retort. "A lot of people don't drink, Mitch. You're just not friends with any of them." Mitch continues to argue his point, mentioning something about booze putting chest hair on a man. You weren't sure why he was so focused on convincing you instead of Miller. It wasn't like you were his guardian or something. The three of you enter the Red lantern district again and you spot the same familiar faces from last night. While you look around, appreciating the scenery, you notice Miller turning the same shade of red as the paper lanterns. You can't find anything unusual besides the half-naked men in thongs and lingerie. It was admittedly an odd thing to normalize, but you've seen so many call boys and prostitutes in your life, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hey, Agent Miller. You O.K? You feeling sick or something?"

"I'm fine."

He was clearly not fine but you decide not to push the matter. As your party finally arrives at the Rez but the entrance is nearly blocked in by boxes and furniture. Shifting through the maze of wooden chairs and unhinged doors, you hear loud arguing through the main entrance. You identify one as Mitch's brother but the other as a high and effeminate shrill. You glance over to Mitch and he shrugs, still struggling to fit through a large stack of mismatched furniture. As you open the door with bated breath, you're immediately hit with a strong wave of perfume and smoke. But through the nicotine haze, you can spot several changes being made to the Rez interior. Velvet curtains, a new polished counter, and rolled-up rugs leaning against the bare walls. Before you could appreciate all the work being done and all the new amenities, an object flies across the room and shatters.