[ Cecelia Ardenbury. A crystal kind of name, Flynn thinks, the kind he's sure he hasn't heard very often in the mouths of the few people he remembers. It seems like the kind of name you would tell someone over the rim of a teacup, maybe, while they hold their own delicately for fear of it breaking. ]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Cecelia.

[ That, at least, Flynn means. It's been a long day of sun and sand and headaches, and now he knows the name of at least one other person and the world feels a little more open with it. ]

You're gracious for giving me another try— oh!

[ The music tips over from a rolling melody into one that frolics from note to note, making half the joint whoop with excitement. Flynn turns his head to watch the crowd with a grin caught on his lips, caught up himself. ]

Let's join them! We'll see what we remember, at least!