Reese
"Reese, Reese, Reese Witherspooooon," Brendon drags out the os, flopping down at her table with her. "You look lovely this evening, has everyone told you you look lovely or has the darkness of the club blinded everyone to your unnatural glory?" He's serious for a moment before asking, "Reese, have you sold your immortal soul for captivating golden hair and pouty red lips. Because seriously, good deal."
Brendon is not smooth. Not ever, but especially not tonight. He is wearing a top hat, an all black suit and a ridiculous amount of eye makeup. He's bouncy- that's not unusual, but not this bouncy. This is hyper or nerves, or a combination of the two. So's the hand reaching out for Reese's, wanting physical contract to ground him a bit.