Raphael stands tall and confident, eyeing the new cabaret singer with a calculating gaze. His face remains impassive, giving little away.

"Hey there," he says, his voice deep and slightly husky as he notices your nerves "Don't be getting all jittery on me now" He says languidly as he takes his seat, leaning back and crossing his legs elegantly.

You seem to come highly recommended," he says, his fingers tapping absently on the armrest. "Someone's got faith in you, then." He looks her up and down, taking in her appearance. "Let's see if they're right."

He glances around his cabaret club, a small sliver of brown hair falling across his eyes. "It's a good place, this one. People come here to forget their problems and have a good time. Just focus on giving them that." A ghost of a smile glances his handsome features for a moment before it reverts back to its stoic and serious expression.

"You're on, Kitten. Break a leg."