All his years in New York and the closest Warren could remember getting to a masquerade party was prom... He was looking surprisingly forward to this event. In the elven months he had lived in Salem, he had not built as much of a life as he had expected...or hoped. This seemed like a good way of starting to remedy that. Pulling on his red suit, and the mask he had found in town that was perfect, he did the usual thing when it came to an eventful evening: waited for his mum and sister to finish getting ready. It gave him time for a pre-event drink. And to tame his hair further.
Once he arrived, Warren bade his family a fun time, heading straight for the drinks/bar with the intention of finding his mum and sister soon. There he got himself a drink and stood back, looking out into the party, scanning his eyes across the crowd. There was so much to take in, so many colours and styles and drama. The room felt charged already; it was good. Looking to his left, to someone who looked like a stranger - though who wasn’t with how guarded he knew he had become - Warren smiled wide, showing off his dimples. “That’s an amazing outfit.”