To Where One Shouldn't

After snaking through cramped alleyways, I make it to my destination.
Towering before me stands a tall spire of a building. A metal fence, pointed sharp on the tips, separates the structure from the nearby buildings.
A dark wooden door, curved at the top, is sealed tight by a chunky black lock. Upon it, a paper notice held in place by chains. For the first time, I can put the results of all my studying to good use. Beginning with a date that I still don't really understand how to read, the notice reads:

"Elgen's recital welcomes all who show interest. Formal wear expected. Children allowed if kept silent."

Whatever this is for, it's clearly not for today. Do you think this is one of those places someone rents out for exhibitions and gatherings? It's pretty imposing for such a simple purpose.
I take a look around the corner, right of the door. There's a... garden? It's all stone, not a single plant, and it's very cramped. Maybe 'courtyard' would be a better description? Whatever it is, it leads to an alternative entrance that looks far more in line with the other buildings.

A light is visible through a window covered in what looks like jail bars. A group of people are doing some kind of routine. Ballet or something similar to that. This is just a gathering place, isn't it!?
Disappointed that this wasn't something more grand, I turn to leave, but my head collides with something, nay, someone.

"Now now! Watch where you're going, lad!"
"Sorry."

I look up. A giant of a man towers over me. He suits the building...

"You here for something?"
"N- no, I was just... checking."
"Hah! The changeover doesn't happen for a bit."
"Changeover?"
"After stoire it's, uh... What was it again? Ah, hell if I know!"

He storms past me and pulls open the door with needless strength. "Come on then", he grunts, welcoming me into the building as if he owned the place. Heck, maybe he does!
I'm a bit too intimidated to awkwardly turn around and leave at this point, so I step inside. Gossip and chatter immediately gives the place some ambience.

Even in the entrance corridor, it's clear to see how fancy this place is. A light shines down from above, surely from a chandelier in one of the nearby rooms. The floor is carpeted orange above a dark laminate wood. Also, there are a lot of people in very expensive-looking clothing littering the place.

"I really must bring this back to Aurba! It's delectable!"
"I take some with me whenever I vacation there!"
"You have a holiday house, I presume?"
"Indeed I do. It's a lovely place."
"They all are in Aurba."

The conversation closest to me is almost obnoxiously pompous. My girlfriend and I can barely afford to stay in our apartment, but here these two are, chatting about having two homes as if it's nothing!
Wait... maybe housing prices are like... really cheap here? Would it be better to bring my family here instead of returning to Earth?
No no, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Aurba might be an awful place compared to most cities on Earth. Whether it's cheap or not is the less important thing! Do they have convenience stores? - That's what really matters.

Arguing priorities with my own brain, I spot the door to the room where those ladies were dancing. "Stoire practice".
So that ballet-like dance is named stoire? Huh... I'm sure I'll remember that for a few minutes and then quickly forget, but at least now I understand what that guy from before was saying. There's a dance lesson going on, and sometime soon, they'll leave the room and some other activity will take its place.

Hmm... Can anyone come to these things? Is there an invitation system?
It's clearly a community space, but what community is allowed? A rich one, clearly. Although that big dude looked pretty rough.
What I'm worried about is, will I get in trouble for being in here, or am I free to check out the different rooms to see what people are up to?

The nearby notice reads. Beside that, some other printouts for the day. The next in line reads: "A chat with Philio Lankard."
A chat with someone who has two names? That doesn't sound like any name on Earth I've heard of. Maybe I'm just ignorant of my own planet, but considering the snobbery of this place, I get the suspicion that this Lankard person is one of those writers obsessed with Him.
Who was that other guy I heard about who was like that? Hang on, I think I brought the book with me...

I rummage through my bag, trying to be quiet and subtle about it. There, I see a book bound in thin fabric.
'A Recollection of Tales Attributed to Various Local Siters Compiled for General Consumption and Commentary. - Soonsiter Ancropy'
Right, this is the guy! What did he call himself? "Crum" or something like that...

"Wow! One of Arthright's classics!"
"Whoa!"

I jolt with surprise. I wasn't expecting someone to sneak up on me, much less peek at what I'm holding.
Leaning over my shoulder, a man with wiry black hair, a pointed nose, and some shaded spectacles far too small for his face, tilts his head as he examines the book in my hands.

"Then that means..." he rotates his neck to look at me, head still tilted, and begins pointing at me, shaking his hand rhythmically as he does so. "You must be here for me", he grins.
I shove the book back into my bag and take this opportunity to retreat. "Uh, I'm..."
"Stop!" He yells without restraint, catching glances from everyone else inside. "Foolish of me to let someone introduce themselves before one has introduced himself."
With a bow and a flourish, he pushes his introduction onto me.

"Philio Lankard, my educated dear. Care for a signature?"

Eww, I think I hate this guy.