Dumas nodded in response to White’s request.  He’d used the dj’s birth name in an attempt to acknowledge some reality deeper than the fictional personas they’d all adopted.  But maybe that was misguided.  Maybe these new identities, no matter how strange or stylized, were closer to the truth -- because they’d been chosen, not imposed from the outside.<br/><br/>A smile cracked Dumas’s face when White considered a wardrobe change.  “Cotton and denim,” he suggested, gesturing to his own outfit.  “Cheap as a penny whore.  And it’ll look a lot better on you than it does on me.  Maybe you’ll even start a new trend.”<br/><br/>Dumas could tell that White was understandably tired after his ordeal.  However, before he returned to the security office, there was one thing which Dumas still owed the dj.  “White...thanks. For that music.”  Pausing, Dumas struggled to find words capable of expressing what he’d experienced without revealing any personal details.  What he finally settled on felt woefully inadequate, but it was the best he could manage.  “It made me feel something really important.”<br/><br/>Turning toward Chester, Dumas gave the magician a quick wink.  “And the visuals were fantastic, as always.”