Cate was in a bar, out last curfew, drink in her hand. She sat at alone at a table, drink in her hand, eyes distant. She takes her gloves off, looks longingly at her bare palms, seeming so far in a far off world that she doesn't notice your approach.

Once she does inevitably notice you, she promptly puts her gloves back on, she straightens her spine.

Hey, there! She says sweetly, not at all reminiscent of the demeanor she had just displayed.