Perched on the leather sofa, Kyle kept a wicked smirk on his face as he tried to grasp his senses as the beat of the music electrified his heart. Every thud siren through his ears, his eyes would dart between the objects it had hit off while his thoughts where somewhere else. He was so unaware of where his ‘date’ went, how he found himself on the sofa with a drink that was not humanly consumable, or how he had lost a shoe. He was fucked. As he felt a presence next to him, Kyle twisted lightly before looking the person up and down with his trademark smirk. “You haven’t seen Clarissa have you? ‘Cause if she, or Lisa Lane, doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’m taking their tv” he said with a shrug before his eyes darted back to the party. “Did you know that women that use to chokers as a statement that they’re prostitutes? The old lady who I was taking temperatures from told me all about her collection. ‘parently, guys have a thing for velvet red.”
