<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/LUiBrTe.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nate Phelps (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=281599.msg13853665#msg13853665)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Dark casual slacks, crisp white collared shirt, blue checked blazer (pictured)[/url]<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Hilton Hotel Ballroom<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Chrissa/(Baylee), Open (light)<br/><br/>Having located his nametag, Nate fixed it to the left lapel of his blazer. He’d scanned the room a bit, noticing that not everyone seemed to have theirs displayed, and decided he was going to have enough trouble making conversation without trying to fly under the radar. For a few moments, he made small talk with a few of the other classmates who’d started to filter in and seek out their tags, pointing out Juliet’s exquisite organizational skills and keen eye for design.<br/><br/>Quietly excusing himself from the small cluster of classmates, none of whom seemed particularly noteworthy, he let his blue-eyed gaze take another scan of the room in order to take stock of the scene unfolding. Several folks were clearly at least a couple drinks into what promised to be a long, alcohol-fueled evening. By the windows, he made a pair of young women engaged in a seemingly deep conversation.<em> Okay, let’s avoid that for now.</em><br/><br/>Scanning further, closer to the bar, he caught a group of folks talking, and made on of them as Julia, simply by the crowd around her. He’d missed her little stumble, something he’d not hear about until later.<br/><br/>Then, he turned to the farthest end of the bar, and caught a pair of green eyes watching-but-trying-not-to-watch. They belonged to one of the two young women he’d seen down in the lobby a short while before. Not wanting to fixate, he kept his gaze moving, and by spying the young woman next to her, shot glass in hand, confirmed his suspicion-they were definitely the pair he saw down in the lobby. Granted, the strawberry blonde in the short dress was rather a tell-that outfit wasn’t going to show up in duplicate in a place like a Hilton.<br/><br/>Still, even in the short, revealing dress, Nate had a sense that the woman was familiar to him or with him, just given the gaze pointed his way. Summoning up a bit of courage, lamenting that he hadn’t made the party early enough to stake out some safe real estate, he started towards the pair, eyes more or less watching the green eyes on him. Within a few steps, he was able to make out the block printing on the name-tag “Chrissa Lacie”, which caused him to lightly suck in a breath.<br/><br/>Their last conversation had taken place about three weeks before he went off to school. It’d been cordial enough, two friends who’d known each other for several years, tried to be more, and gone back, the way teenagers do every day. Still, the content of the conversation-”Did you ever wonder if we’d...tried a bit more?” lingered with him for a good part of his freshman year.<br/><br/>Then came college girls, and then his wife, and that part had faded from his brain. But, now, within a few feet of Chrissa, knowing it was her, seeing her look a different level of stunning, made that conversation feel a week old.<br/><br/>And so, he steeled himself, searched deep in his gut for the right words, and came up with “Chrissa? Is that you? Wow! So great to see you! It’s me, Nate.”<br/><br/><em>Smooth move, dickhead-it’s literally written on your nametag</em><br/>