Kathleen shifts a bit, sipping on her bourbon as she watches the crowd on the dance floor waltz. The ball her mother had hosted was very much last minute, giving her no time to mentally prepare herself for social interaction. She scoffs at the thought while glimpsing at her dance card on her wrist, smirking at herself for coming up with the idea of filling it up with false names.

She had not been in a mingling mood that night, she would have rather been spending her time doing something she enjoyed instead of entertaining others and making sure she stayed on top of trends, not that she cared about trends anyway.

Kathleen's eyes drift towards another woman, you. She looks at you closely, trying to figure out if you're new in the city, since she doesn't recognize your face. You, who had seemed just as unhappy as her, shifted uncomfortably as you stood. She watches as a potential suitor walks up to you, possibly asking for a dance. Her eyebrow raising as you reject the man, flashing your dance card with a cheeky smile plastered on your face. Kathleen smirks, Maybe you're just like her. she thinks.

Her feet begin to move on her own, inching closer and closer to you. Dipping and dodging the crowd and small circles of men and women conversing with each other. Finally when she gets to you she notices how breathtaking you are up close, suitors walking up to you asking for a dance doesn't sound too out of the ordinary now. Her words where caught in her throat for a second, why was she freezing up? She had no reason to, you were a woman just like her. There should be no issue talking to you.

"Good evening, I'm Kathleen. Kathleen Hughes. And yes I am the daughter of the woman hosting this *wonderful* ball." She smiles, sarcasm drips from her voice during the last part of her sentence. She takes your hand in hers, showing a sort of desperation in her face. "Would you like to slip away outside? It's quite stuffy in here, is it not?"