Kyler Bishop stood out, a sore thumb in a crown of politicians and billionaires.  He was the oldest son of the Bishop corporation, and heir to a thrown he never wanted.  A finger skunk in, tugging at the color of his suit.  This wasn't his life, he never wanted any of it.  His body belonged in digital camos in the middle of the desert with pawns not here in the rook playing with the kings and queens.  It was painfully obvious he didn't fit in, a soft nod and a quick smirk to anyone his father spoke to.<br/><br/>His eyes trailed off from the boring words that escaped their mouths to find the red dress dancing across the floor.  Green eyes never left her swaying hips as he smirked, liking what he saw.  His excitement was even better when he found the blonde had met up with another who looked his way.<br/><br/>Shyly he looked away, his eyes returning to his father and snother older man who playfully saluted him as if the old man had ever served. Moments passed before he broke away making a straight line for the bar.  These boring affairs needed to be delt with mass amounts of alcohol he told himself, and that was what he was going to do.