Cyrus stiffened up and took a gulp of his drink. Yvonne. That's right, that was his name. A long time ago. He let out a nervous chuckle. How, by chance, did he come across his old lover here? Has he been in this city all this time? No, his accent suggested that he was Russian. How long had he been here? How long has he been coming to this club? How long-- Cyrus stiffened up again. Oh, right, he asked his name... "Cyrus. My name is Cyrus. Kingsdale." He took another gulp of his drink. "I'm sorry i'm being so nervous. I just... didn't expect to run into you here." He took one last gulp of his drink. "Another!" He called to the barkeep, who passed him another drink. Shit... Cyrus didn't ask his name! "Ahem... so... what name do you go by these days?"