It had proved to be a very, very difficult task to walk around the smooth floor with the brand new shoes Badou had been given without slipping and landing on his ass. These shoes were too slick or maybe the floor had been too polished, or maybe he was just used to his old rugged shoes. Maybe that was it.
Either way, he did manage to... slide like a freaking ice skater towards the balcony, where he promptly turned on his heels and leaned against the banister, rose bouquet tucked under his arm as he fished for a lighter in his pocket and lit a cigarette, careful not to burn the fedora hat with the flame. Red hair neatly tied in a low ponytail, Badou looked the part of a true Mafia gangster from the streets of Chicago... well, even if a little bit too skinny.