Aloysius, a 23-year-old dancer, spends his day completing his mandatory military service in Singapore.
So at night on the weekends, "Loy" as he calls himself, goes raving. Under the lights and in the heat, he's shedding a skin, seeking release.
Last November we met at a rave at Haw Par Villa - a hell-themed amusement park in the city's west dotted with statues of figures from Chinese mythology: topless mermaids, warrior demons and wizened old sages like Confucius.
It was twilight, and Loy and his friends were jolting to a thumping bass drifting up from a space below.
Down in the "Culture Courtyard", crowds were shuffling to a grimy funk track which morphed into revved-up disco then deep house.
Behind the DJ, projections of swirls crawled over a loop of a Chinese palace drama. In front of the decks, a moving mass lifted drenched faces to the screen.
Plunging into that crowd was like stepping into a greenhouse. The heat that encased everyone on the dance floor - a sea of bum bags, bucket hats and sunglasses - was a reminder as to why most Singaporean residents stick to air-conditioning. บาคาร่าเว็บตรงไม่ผ่านเอเย่นต์