He was fairly certain that four glasses shouldn't be enough to cause his vision to fuzz but he was feeling too happy to be concerned. In fact, he couldn't be concerned about anything at the moment. He was enthralled at the effect the champagne had on him. He noticed the elegant silver chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the gilded Victorian architecture which somehow managed to mix with what he thought was a rather good rendition of a Frech frieze. All the colors seemed to overwhelm him and leave him wanting more all at once.
He last saw Lex heading to the outdoor patio with the unfamiliar gentleman. In other circumstances, he would have unceremoniously walked out there and interrupted. After all, Lex and asked him to this thing and he didn't know anyone else there. Well, he was there alone and he was gonna have fun, dammit.
He made his way over to a waiter and snatched another glass. This waiter eyed him suspiciously but didn't manage to say anything. Lifting the glass to his lips, he savored the fizz as it tickled his mouth and throat. He eyed a couple of well dressed women, who blushed coquettishly and smiled as they turned away. He wasn't sure how to play that particular game, but he was willing to learn.
He half walked, have fizzed his way across the room, towards a crackled age-effect wall painting. Beneath it, a beautiful woman dressed in the most startling shade of scarlet was returning his smile. He wasn't sure what would happen when he got there, just that he wanted to be there, to converse with this vision of perfection. It wasn't so much that she was attactive as that she inspired a kind of worship. Of course, it was probably just the booze though.
He finally made it over to the woman in red, and tried to introduce himself.
"Hello, my name is Kent Clark..." he paused for a moment realizing somethig wasn't right. "No wait, the other way around."
The lady smiled and said, "Well, Clark, I don't want to wait the other way around. I enjoy the view this direction offers." With a smile, she sipped demurely at her own glass of champagne and licked her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. "Where are you from, Clark?"
"Uh, I'm from Smallville. I'm here for school. What's your name?" Clark couldn't help but to stare at her; she was enthralling with thick blonde hair, deep saphire eyes and creamy white skin.
"Why don't we go somewhere a bit more private to talk." She purred. "There's a couch in the upstairs foyeur."
Being a bit unsteady on his feet and feeling warm from the champagne, he decided that getting out of the crowd of people would be a good idea and let her guide him to the steps leading upstairs.
By the time they reached the landing, she had her hands on his lower back, gently pushing him onwards. Much to his embarrassment, the gentle pressure was having an effect.