Sully lets out a low hum, a sound that rises and falls thoughtfully as he leans himself into one corner of the tiny space. He lowers his gaze a moment before lifting it to meet Flint's again, confident smile plastered on his face, but not in his eyes. As suspected, this isn't a recreational call.

"Fake it 'til you make it, I think." That seems like an optimistic explanation. And he clicks his tongue at it. Optimistic used to be fine. But he'd outed himself when he'd gotten angry at the assembly, and he can't play at being oblivious, anymore. "Pretending's right on, though. Almost didn't come tonight. Everything feels like playacting, now. Classes, clubs, this." He pauses, crossing his arms. "I'm honestly surprised to see you here."