The Monsoon Cat in Williamsburg was the last place Seth would imagine fake passports being made. The coffee shop was swarming with bearded guys in plaid shirts and girls sprinkled with piercings. Clean, crisp interior design mixed with Indian-inspired wallpaper in orange and pink. Bhajis and Jalebi were served with a curious curry latte. Still, Seth wasn’t that curious.

Even though the place was packed, he still felt he stood out like a sore thumb in the non-descript blue hoodie he had borrowed from Peter’s boyfriend. When some random guy bumped into him, Seth tensed up so badly he almost pulled out a gun. The stranger told him to ‘chill’ and went his way, but chilled out was the last thing Seth was when he walked up to the counter and looked across it at a girl in a pink turban and a fake handlebar moustache hanging over her plump lips on a thin chain that disappeared under the headdress.