<strong>Name</strong>Dre Bledsoe<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>White button down shirt, partially tucked into some black dress pants with black shoes and black sockws with tiny white polka dots.<br/><strong>Location</strong>Mortocalous plane<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>Zoé, Elena, open<br/><br/>Dre looked over at Zoé with a warm but, mischievous smile, "Zo, like you even got to ask?" Dre put the blunt to his mouth and flipped open his silver, hand-engraved zippo lighter. The flicker of the bright sculpted torch reflected in his eye-glasses as he sucked air into the blunt, feeding the flame at the end. He leaned over the back of Zoé's seat and placed his hand on her cheek, and lightly pressed his thick lips against hers, gently blowing the hot smoke into her mouth. As Dre leaned back in his chair he handed her the blunt, "Make sure you share." Dre liked Zoé. She was a good smoking buddy, but always too polite for his taste. That being said, she didn't pry. And, he liked that.<br/><br/>Dre, half-kidding, called to galley "Yo, Elena, where's that fruit?"