Fluke was probably high.
That would explain a lot. He seemed like the type. It's all good, no one's mad. Well. Just remember: Don't Hide It, Divide It. So let him zone out. Plenty of other stuff going on. For a few seconds, he totally did not stare at something, but then pulled his eyes away. Zoey. Asp. Some other chick. Bailing.
They're not...
...are they?
Hold that thought. A napkin was whipped off the stack and set down with a flourish.
"So far, vodka tonic and Jean Harlow. I'm vodka, that's Jean." Hands came up defensively. "Kidding. As in, you know, our drinks. Super bad joke. He's Fluke as in stroke of luck not like a fish's tail and I'm Star."
The carafe, still empty, was moved, and set between the two drinkers. Boom.
"So, like, what's going on with you? I saw you talking to N... Councilor Nous and Provost Pepper. You new? A Thearch? Guardian? Or just a fan of epic curls, tall blondes, or Glen check?" You never know.
A finger tapped the napkin.
Because order.