Drake watched the clear bubbling liquid in his champagne flute swirl with an almost bored gaze. The melodic humming of the songstress had stopped, having found herself a conversation partner in the cold night. Intruding upon them would be rude, no matter what way you looked at it, so he contented himself with slowly emptying his glass before returning inside. However, before reaching the bottom, he himself was approached. Opening his eyes and turning his head in slight surprise, having not expected someone to come out here to brave the chilly January night air, he found himself facing a young Asian lady. She wore a blue dress, simple in design, but for some reason giving him the impression that it was still designer. A light accent laced her soft, feminine voice, showing that she was not from around here<del>   </del>at least not originally.<br/><br/><strong>"Escaping the stuffiness inside for a few minutes, yes... but I would not mind having your lovely company,"</strong>he responded while showing her his best charming smile. Tenderly grasping hold of her small hand, as if it were made of fragile glass, Drake raised it a few inches before leaning down, placing a tender kiss on the back of Kaiyo's hand. As he rose back up, he, in turn, introduced himself,<strong>"Drake; Drake Holland. A pleasure to meet you as well, Kaiyo."</strong><br/><br/>She was a subtle kind of beauty, small of stature<del>   </del>which was quite normal for Asians, he supposed<del>   </del>with soft curves that were accentuated by her dress. It was quite different from your typical American beauty, plenty of which ran around the place that very evening, and it had somehow captured his interest. He wanted to know more about her.<strong>"Do you mind me asking where you are from, Kaiyo?"</strong>he asked her. He was laying it on a bit thick, perhaps, but his impression of native Asian people so far had been that they were very big on formalities. Talking like a redneck would only insult them.