Anika was never one for dank, dark rooms and music so loud that you couldn’t hear yourself think. A surprising thing, considering her career, though to her there was a difference between a stage and a penthouse. She slipped out the glass balcony doors, taking a breath of relief before fishing the pack of cigarettes she had out of her pocket. Leaning against the railing, the sound of the afterparty muffled behind her, she sparked her lighter and lit her cigarette. The small orange glow almos...