He’d groan, stepping out of the doors of the crowded party of Freddy’s, reaching in his pocket to grab his lucky lighter (which always failed on him) and a cigarette. He’d look over, hoping no one was sitting at his regular spot but sighing seeing there was, about to go tell ‘em off before seeing… a tired, good lookin’ person also with a cigarette, minus the needed lighter. He’d walk up to them, offering his lighter with his more charming smile, “Pretty sure you need a lighter for that.”