Alex put away his guitar and sat back down in the booth. His plate had been cleared away, thankfully, so he was free to light up in the smoking section as the next act took the stage. American cigarette were by far inferior to the strength and potency of a Russian smoke, but he found the moment the smoke rushed into his lungs that he didn't really care. That's how addictions went, at least for him. It was like some knot in the back of his head was relieved only by the act of smoking. Took the edge off of everything. 

He didn't even realize he had closed his eyes until he opened them to see who was up after hearing the introduction. Jen. He had to keep that name in mind. With the way tonight was going, it wouldn't be a bad idea to learn some names and maybe take some numbers. He tapped off the ashes into a little glass dish at the center of the table and patiently waited for the bassist to start up.

It took him a moment, but he recognized the song as soon as she came in with the lyrics. One of his friends introduced him to this band. It was right up his alley, but she really captured his interest when she began to improvise. She knew exactly what the hell she was doing and her take on the song was damn good, too. As she ended the song, Alex decided tonight was the perfect night to come to the open mic. So many new faces got him jazzed about making some music.

When his waitress came by again and he asked for the check, flashing her a smoldering look that put a little color in her cheeks. She scurried away and he climbed out of his booth once again, but crossed over into the nonsmoking section with the lit cigarette still between his lips. He still had about half of it left and didn't see about a couple yards between the sections really made a difference. Simply put, he didn't really care. 

"Hey." He really only knew one way to casually greet someone, so he used it often. He leaned on the side of the booth opposite and removed the cigarette from his lips. "You rocked it on stage. You were-" There was a word to put to the feeling he was trying to convey. He remembered some slang someone used a few days ago. "Sick. Sick can be good, right?" He certainly hoped he wasn't implying that she made him ill in any sense of the word.