"Allergic to champagne?" The man asked with confusion, staring at Mollie uncomprehendingly for a moment, before glancing at the glass of champagne. It seemed to all click when he finally registered the glass she held.<br/><br/>"Oh no no, not allergic, just don't have the taste buds for it," the man spoke dismissively before opening his mouth wide and pointing at it with his thumbs in indication. "New mouth just doesn't like it. I think it's something that I developed in my youth, but I'm not entirely sure."<br/><br/>The man stopped talking and looked at the ground again. A hard look of concern had appeared on his face, causing his eyebrows to furrow as he stared down at his boot. Just as he done before, he raised his foot from the ground and placed it down purposefully, and as he did a frown appeared on his lips.<br/><br/>Whatever conclusion he had came to was interrupted as the waitress told him off. He stared her down as she spoke, his eyes wide and unblinking. The stare was a little unnerving. Not because it was out of the ordinary, but because it was strangely...bottomless.<br/><br/>No, bottomless was the wrong word for it, his stare was infinite. In the dark emerald green of his eyes lingered something that could not be defined, because there was no possibility of measurement. They were a paradox in the simplest of forms. Although they were the eyes of a young man, they watched like the eyes of an ancient. They were insignificant, yet they seemed to stand for so much.<br/><br/>After a moment of silence, the man smiled and walked up to Mollie. Those incomprehensible eyes were now full of something else; mischief.<br/><br/>"You hate it here don't you?" He asked as he drew nearer. "Its holding you back. You want freedom, but you need money. This job gives you money, but it also gives you grief and kills your creativity. You want to smile, but you also want to smack the rude people who are walking about here as if they invented sliced bread."<br/><br/>The man let the statement hang in the air before cocking his head a little and smiling warmly.<br/><br/>"Mollie Spires," he said, speaking the name with the same interest a person might show when discussing an exciting work of art. "Nice name. Very nice in fact. It's like the name of a hero," he spoke before burying his hands into the pockets of his patchwork jacket. "Don't let the villains hold you back."<br/><br/>The man lifted his head, as if suddenly hearing someone shout his name, before nodding and turning on his feet.<br/><br/>"Nice to meet you Mollie, I'm the Doctor. Enjoy your life and whatever you choose to do with it," he spoke before walking away. Only pausing to add one last detail. "Oh and by the way, leave quickly. This place is about to erupt into chaos."