Exiting the bathroom, Donovan stopped to watch his party through the wall of glass looking out to his back yard. Nothing was broken, no one was fighting, people were dancing, it was what you could call a success. Strangely enough, it still felt a bit distant. Taking the final drink from his glass, Don headed back into his reading room in a slight daze. As he approached the bar, he decide it was a good time for his favorite 70 year aged scotch. 

The rustle of pages turning was what brought him from the daze, snapping his attention to a small girl. She was curled in his favorite chair. A quick survey of the room told him she didn't even have a drink. A puzzled look came over his dark exotic features. "Are you not enjoying yourself?" He finally voiced, getting a creeping familiar feeling the longer he looked at her. Where had he seen her face before? Nothing came to him, but but it burned at the back of his head.