The room is quiet. Pylar held the mask in his hands and ran his thumbs over the raised vines. The woman from before is gone and the doors he came through are closed. A pulsing baseline, distant yet close, rippled through the floor at Pylar’s feet. He can feel it deep in his chest with each rhythmic pulse, creating a tension in the pit of his stomach. The beating is broken up by a soft, and beautiful voice. Pylar followed the indiscernible words to the first set of open doors and froze just outside of them. The room within is smaller than the one he stood in, but the decor mirrors the rest of the space; intimate and dark. Rows of plush chairs and couches are situated in a half circle and create a viewing space. Scattered among them are small tables, each topped with bowls full of condoms and pocket-sized bottles of lube. A bright, overhead floodlight illuminated a pair of women as they stood on either side of an empty frame that hangs from the shadows above. They mirrored each other's posture and look, from the cuts in their robes to the way their hair was parted. They each held one hand against the frame and pushed it forward, walking in circles, staring at one another.

"We're beautiful, aren't we?" One of the women said.

"Yes," the other said. "The most beautiful." She reached through the mirror and caught her reflection's chin. She stepped through the mirror and pressed their lips together. Onlookers watched with wine in one hand and either their partners or themselves in the other.

"It should be a sin, something this good..." The woman sank to her knees, dragging her nails down the other woman's body and pampering her skin with her lips.

Something bubbled in Pylar's stomach; it wasn't the normal annoyance or disgust he felt when unnecessary sex scenes were thrust upon him and Maddox during movie night. It was something else, something good. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs and then quickly through his curly bangs. Desire rose in him, a voice in his head telling things he'd never thought before. 'What are they doing? You can't tell from here. Go in. Watch. Ask for a seat against that guy unzipping his pants.' The audience was just as entrancing as the two women set center stage. They watched casually, some of them whispered, passing secrets back and forth through hushed murmurs and playful kisses. Some of them didn't touch anyone at all. A man leaned back, his legs splayed out front and his arms over the back of the couch and watched the show as though he had turned on the evening news and was waiting for the weather report.

Pylar breathed hard through his nose, his jaw locked tight. Turning away from the room felt much harder than it should've. His hands turned to fists and he quickly moved down the hall.

The next set of double doors opened into a dining hall. A diamond-embellished chandelier hung over a long table, the dangling gems caught the light and covered the seated guests and table spread in subtle flecks of light. Porcelain bowls and silverware rattle as the table creaks and groans. A man with skin painted pink and wearing a pig mask knelt on the table behind a woman on her knees, bent forward atop a silver platter. He teasingly rocked their bodies together, his hands on her waist, her body curved, knees pressed to the tablecloth with hands and ankles bound together. The man arched his back to lean over her and take hold of an apple sitting at the edge of the table. His other hand slid along her body, splayed fingers raked down her skin. On the table beside her thighs sat a gravy boat. He picked it up and slowly poured the contents down the woman's back, trailing a light drizzle from her spine, to her tailbone, and pouring most of it over her ass and between her cheeks. He leaned over her and trailed his lips down her body, ravenously lapping at the sauce. He snorted in between the noisy sucks and slurps, his face coated in gravy as he bit at her shoulder blades. The pig man rubbed his heat between the woman's cheeks, thoroughly coating himself in gravy. He drops forward with a heavy thud, rattling everything on the table as he forced the apple between her lips pushed into her from behind with a noisy squeal.

Pylar closed his eyes tight and shook his head as he backed out of the room to put space between himself and the feasting pig man. He knew now, more than five minutes ago, that he needed to find the man in white. He had so many questions and no answers, and the situation was only being made worse by each scene displayed in these rooms mixed with the quiet onlookers who seemed to have little shame about themselves. Maybe it was the masks, emboldening them to touch themselves in such a public place, to open their pants or part their legs, their pants open or skirts hiked up-

An organ played a declaration down the hall. The song echoed softly in the long hallway and paused for a chorus to chant harmoniously.

Pylar continued down the hall to the last set of open double doors, the one Vasile and the man in white had disappeared into. The room looked like a small church. Rows of wooden pews lined each side of the room, leaving enough room between them to provide a trail to the alter and stage at the front. Each pew had a knee board folded up against the back. In one row, the audience had pulled down the plush, padded knee board and a man sat on his knees, his head bowed, his hands together, and his eyes on the stage. In another row, a man sat back with one arm wrapped around a woman's shoulders and the other down at his sides, his hand in his lap. He leaned over and whispered into the woman's ear then adjusted himself gently. At the center of the stage sat a large, wooden podium. Behind it, a cross hung on the wall with stained glass windows underneath it on both sides. Rather than depicting saints or a holy scene from the Bible, the stained glass windows were tributes to sexuality: in one, four men, two with horns and tails and two without, spread around a small body of water. One of the horned men bent one without horns over a rock and held their hips together. On the other side of the water, the other horned creature sat between the legs of the other human who laid out over a rock. The human held onto the grass around him as his ecstasy painted his stomach. The second stained glass window portrayed an angel with large, white wings, wrists tied to the arms of a cross stuck in the ground, and another human-like creature stood behind him, connecting them at the hip.