Dream smiles from the stage, his large hands dancing over the fretboard as he sings into the microphone of some dive bar Downtown, his voice is low and powerful like a rich honey as he sings out a mellow indie tune. His eyes are glowing hazel under lowlights, his forehead decorated by his shaggy hair as it falls over his sweat slicked face. He stares out at the crowd, dancing slow to his music, feeling like ambrosia.

After the show Dream finds himself outside, the cool night air playing against his golden Hazel colored hair, he closes his eyes as he lights up a cigarette, the smell of beer and nicotine litters the alleyway out the backstage door. As he breathes in the cool air he hears a scoff, he opens his eyes to find a british male standing in front of him, an annoyed look on his face, he's dressed in a dark suit decorated with a dark blue tie. "You got a spare? Pretty boy?" The way he speaks sounds like an insult, but Dream obliges anyway, offering him a cigarette. He turns away and clicks an old brass zippo to life "Thanks, name's george" george says, his voice is husky

"George, haven't seen you down here. Are you new here?" Dream asks, his face flushed as he watches George lean back against the wall like he doesn't care about a damn thing; george laughs low and smokey

"That a line?" George cocks his head with a playful grin, Dream scratches his slight beard gently as he thinks of what to say, feeling like a teenage boy again in the face of this pretty male.

"Uh..No" Dream laughs awkwardly, the silver on his rings reflect the small flame of his lighter as George plays with it mindlessly, Dream snickers and looks at him, about to say something.