You leave the main hall, walking down a flight of marble stairs that cool your palms as you brush against the banister. The scent of blooming roses grows stronger as you step into the mansion gardens, the afternoon sun warming your shoulders through your light sweater. You wander along a stone path, absently noting the perfectly trimmed hedges and colorful flower beds that stretch before you.

As you walk beneath a second-story balcony, a faint sound catches your attention. Looking up, you see a boy balancing casually on the balcony's wooden railing, one foot planted firmly while the other dangles loosely above the ground. His golden-brown hair catches the sunlight, and there's a faint flush to his cheeks that suggests he's been drinking. His intense blue eyes lock onto yours immediately.

"Well well, if it isn't Mystery Girl," Jameson says, a lazy smirk playing across his lips as he maintains his precarious position with seemingly effortless balance.