Well this is awkward.

The young man entered the ballroom, and upon doing so, immediately blinked. As always, his brown eyes were hidden by his dark, messy hair, as was the rest of his sicky pale face. In this crowd, the Frenchman stuck out like a sore thumb, seeing as how he wasn't dressed in 50's fashion or even wearing dress clothes.

"Apparemment je n'ai pas reçu le mémorandum...." the male whispered in French. How had he not known about this?!

Damien's other half sighed. Well you, being the idiot you are, were probably blind and didn't see it, Tristan said.

Damien frowned. "That was kind," he said, and leaned against the wall in a corner. Why not stay and watch? It might turn out to be amusing?

I hate you... Tristan sighed, going to have to put up with his other side's actions for the time being.

"Bonjour, Damien! Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?"

Damien jumped, startled by the voice, and looked to her, blinking. Wow, that was a first. Someone was actually talking him. He looked at her for a moment, taking a few moments to remember who it was. "Bonjour, Brielle," he said. It was good to have someone to talk to who actually understood the language. "Rien n'est beaucoup en haut. N'importe quoi de nouvel avec vous?"

Please tell me you two aren't friends now, Tristan said, hatred lacing his voice.

"Pouvez-vous juste ÊTRE SILENCIEUX pour une fois?!" he screamed, then blinked. Crap... he had said that aloud. "Er... sorry..."

"Wanna dance or something?"

Damien's face went red as a cherry. "I... uh... don't really... know how to dance..." he said, swallowing nervously and averting his unseeable eyes.

"Uhhhh....okay?"

"That wasn't directed at you," he said. Tristan laughed in his mind, unable to stop himself. He loved ruining Damien's life. He put his hands to his ears, trying to stop the sound of it, but of course, it didn't work.

"Come on, please?"

He stared at her hand. The young man looked around, then smiled softly, taking her hand in his. It was slightly awkward, and he swallowed, nervous and not knowing what to do. "Um..." Damien blinked, looking at her for help at what to do now. He was really that clueless. His little bone-wings twitched and folded over his back so that they would be out of the way, though they weren't big enough to get in the way anyway.

Tristan sighed. He could just sense something horrible about this, he knew nothing good could come of it. Had he been viewable, one would have seen his nose wrinkle in disgust as he watched them like this. He had to stop this somehow.

"Paris," Damien answered with a small smile. He missed the city, to be honest. He kind of missed his family, too... but, unfortunately, they wanted nothing to do with him. Oh, well... he would get over it eventually.

Stop dancing with her, Damien. This is only going to cause trouble!! Tristan shouted, his voice pretty much a growl.

"You can't control me..." he muttered. It was slightly embarrassing to be talking to himself, even if it wasn't really himself. Brielle would probably be finding out about this whole thing soon, anyway.