A few minutes passed, by now people seemed to have forgotten the awkward pauses that took place during "Resistance", at least he hoped. A couple of feigned coughs after the song and a pallid expression had allowed the singer to take leave of the stage on pretence of being ill, giving him time to mosey over into sight of one of the bartenderesses while another took his place on stage.

Carefully choosing where he sat, using a blonde patron as cover between him and the bar. Illia would soon find herself silently flagged down by one of customers while Skylar was busy,

The young man looked pale, perhaps by fault of the lights in the establishment or the lack of sunlight ever touching him. Maybe both. Dark hair with rather handsome, though gentle, features and long straight sideburns, hint at his asian ancestry. His quiet eyes contemplating some internal thought as he stared at the table unflinching. He seemed tired, but then again he had always seemed tired the few times Illia had barely noticed him when their band played here. Or perhaps depressed. Given that she had never seen him smile either.
 
[b][color=0076a3]"A collins, rum, not gin, if you please."[/color][/b] He said, only looking up when she arrived. He figured a drink made of ginger, alchohol and lemon would make sense if he was feeling unwell. [b][color=0076a3]"That wait---"[/color][/b][i] Would calling them waitresses be considered an insult?[/i] [b][color=0076a3]"--girl at the bar, does she work here often?"[/color][/b] He asked non-chalantly, slipping in the question while Illia was taking down his order.