Leaning back on the bar, was a man donned in jet black, the class exuding from his attire utterly spoiled by his wild spiky hair. Swirling a drink in hand, he continued scanning the room, searching for someone who explained what this party was. When someone like Kyle, whose hands were stained in enough blood, and whose dealings brought no end of enemies, was invited anywhere, the intentions were usually clear; but this wasn't the case tonight. Kyle's ring of influence didn't extend beyond his home city, and he was fairly certain the same went for his enemies, so why was he drinking gin in some far off nightclub?<br/><br/>Greeted by all the trimmings of a typical night club, it seemed answers were a ways off; but as he turned back to his drink, Kyle spotted someone who was more than a bit out of place. Leaving his drink on the counter, and some money for the bill, he approached the young kid who sorely clashed with his surroundings - sporting a sweater vest and social timidity that almost irked Kyle on principle.<br/><br/>After closing the distance, he sternly called out, "Hey, kid! Shouldn't you be holed up in a library? You look painfully out of place."