As the people finally began to go inside, Orson kept his eye on her, discretely so she wouldn't think he was some sort of a creep. Hopefully, anyway. His hair hung in light waves around his head, 'fixed' perfectly, though really all he did was brush it a little... He was clean shaven, his outfit without unnecessary crease or wrinkle. He wore black jeans, a ribbed off-white tank with an overlying black leather jacket, fitted with a short upturned collar. Clean cut, safe, perfect. He knew she saw him, and every time he caught a glimpse of her eye, he made sure to have a bright expression on his face. Not a cheesy smile, but something that said he was safe, friendly.

Now she was walking away from the people, waiting a few feet away from the entrance. Not her cup of tea, after all.... or maybe she was taking her sweet time. It didn't matter... he would make her go in. Orson began to walk on the edge of the sidewalk as close to the street as possible, now avoiding eye contact with her till he was at the doorway. After paying his cover, he entered, casting a quick but lingering look at her before he was gone.