As soon as Yasuo entered the establishment, he could barely contain his smile. Honestly, he had never been inside this place before, mostly because it had never truly interested him. Now that he was here, he was certain he would be returning more often. The place was very different than what he was used to. It was not a standard four walls, modern establishment. It was a Victorian age styled structure, colored darkly, though brightly lit to further enhance the appeal.

The lights were shining down on the patrons in a way that illuminated their masks in the most stunning ways. He spotted all sorts of bizarre masks; most of them were simple colors like bronze and silver, though he caught plenty of glimpses of bright, colorful feathers or strange animals. Some people had masks adorned with jewels, others were covered in dangling charms and other such shiny things.

A waitress walked by Yasuo, both her appearance and her perfume caught his attention. Even the waitresses were wearing masks, that and scantily clad outfits that showed off long legs and enough cleavage to please an old man. They were carrying trays with little glasses containing bright red liquid. That was the real reason for this event: the wine. Before the waitress disappeared, Yasuo quickly snagged a glass from her tray.

He brought it to his lips, but gave it a quick sniff first. It was unique and yet very familiar at the same time, mostly because all wine smelt the same to him. After tasting it, he nodded his head and muttered to himself, "Yep, it's all the same..."

Yasuo lightly flicked his wrist so that the contents inside the glass would swish back and forth. He was not sure why he did it when drinking; perhaps, it was a habit he obtained from watching his father drink. The man would do the exact same thing: just barely flick the wrist so that the contents of his drink would swish around. He wondered if it made it taste better. After giving it another sip, Yasuo believed that it did taste better, though that could simply be because it was his second sip and most alcohols tasted better the second time.

A voice broke through his thoughts about the wine. Yasuo turned and faced the stranger. She was definitely not someone he knew; Yasuo did not know anyone with such dark skin and contrasting, shiny, silver hair. She was almost like an exact opposite of him.

He smiled and replied to her, "maybe not scotch. I'm more of a straight up vodka type of guy." He walked a little closer and was about to extend his arm to introduce himself; however, Yasuo quickly stopped and considered it for a moment. For the sake of this event, a different type of introduction seemed necessary. Instead, he lightly bowed and said to her, "wine will do just fine, though. Nice to meet you."

Yasuo had not been in this type of environment in a long time. It reminded him of the frequent parties they attended. His father had a special thing with appearances and attending formal events was the best way to keep up appearances. This place felt like nothing more than an event to keep up appearances.

He agreed with this stranger, entirely. "It definitely is not the type of poison I'm familiar with. It's too different and it leaves behind a taste that I would prefer to forget." He licked his lips in a way that was almost seductive, though it was mostly in an attempt to clear away that taste that was still lingering.

Another waitress passed by. She walked in a way that exposed the curve of her ass, which caught the attention of many men. Yasuo figured these waitresses were told to share as much of the wine as possible. However, while she was not looking, the Japanese man set his empty glass on her tray and quickly turned away so no one would notice. He could hear someone, who must've taken the empty glass by mistake, loudly sputter, "what the hell!?"

Yasuo laughed at the sound of someone grabbing his empty glass. He smiled sweetly at the stranger he was sharing company with. "Nothing like causing a bit of mayhem, right?"

At her words, the masked Japanese gentleman took a look around. Most of the patrons appeared to be elderly, or at least middle aged. Yasuo guessed it was so because of the way they walked, carried themselves, and, of course, by how wrinkly their hands were. He chuckled at the girl and replied, "you might be right."

When he turned back to face her, some light music began to play. A band had set up against a wall and began playing classical music. Sure, it was not exactly Yasuo's taste; however, he could work with it. "Would you like to dance?" he asked the young lady whom he was sharing company with. "I have not danced in a while, but I promise I won't step on your feet."

The man's pitch black hair dipped over his mask, covering half of his face. He would have quickly swiped his bangs to the side; however, he was patiently waiting, hoping the woman would take the hand he offered. Maybe a change of pace was in order? He always felt it was important to try new things.

Yasuo could barely contain his smile as he took the woman's hand and walked with her to the dance floor. There was something special about trying something almost completely new. He had danced before, but it had been quite a long time. These sort of events were not common for him, especially not these days.

"I would almost say you are making fun of me," he teased, replying to her comment about his grace. There was no way that his tall, lanky man appeared graceful. The dance floor was wide open, but was filling rather quickly. Many of the guests, whom were most likely younger, began to rise and walk over to the floor, hand in hand. Yasuo lightly held her hand and placed his other hand on her side, enjoying the softness of her dress.

Yasuo watched her intently as they danced. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to get into the flow of their dance and felt comfortable enough to move with ease. He lightly squeezed her hip, sharing his reassurance. "I like to paint," he blurted, not at all bothered by his mediocre life. "What about you?"