"Steven," he offers softly, finding himself a little bit too flustered to maintain eye contact even though her beauty looks different in the daylight and he's intrigued. His eyes drift away and he lowers his wringing hands, rubbing his thumb and fingers while his hands hang loosely below the waist. Could be that Marc changed his accent and his hair and his name and his general temperament, you never know...

"You like rock?" he asks in a poor attempt to deflect from the lake night and make conversation. You can't program people to be have better social skills, unfortunately.