A fight broke out a few minutes ago in the club that Ilde is just now stepping out of, into the alley between buildings where it's quieter and cigarette butts on the damp concrete show evidence of others having had this self-same thought. The entrance to the club itself is near enough to the mouth of the alley that she figures she'll notice if Ivan gets thrown out before she goes back in, in the meantime resisting the urge to lean against the wall out of not quite mild concern for what might end up on her blazer.

She keeps one eye on the still-open door back into the club as she lights the cigarette she came out here for, just in case of god only knows what. (She doesn't hear the crash inside so much as she feels it, vibrating, and wonders idly what that was and if Ivan is going to get annoyed with her for slipping out. He'll probably be fine; he looked like he was enjoying himself.)