Luther goes a bit wooden next to her, and she thinks she'll owe him an apology in a moment, even though it does seem to be the one normal thing about this. The only part of it like everything that once was. Posing for pictures and pretending to be grateful. It's stranger to be out here, in the real world, all dressed up side by side, that it is to picture them in their costumes, or school uniforms, as the Monocle stood by, with the eyes of a hawk, watch everything anyone near them did or asked them.

He goes eventually, and Allison pulled a breath in, but made it all her effort not to roll her eyes at it. It was one thing to let herself when getting rid of the most annoying leech at the party, and another when allowing oneself to have an overblown reaction because of, also publically invited, paparazzi. She was still learning how to make that look utterly unaffected.

Some people made it look so easy.

She mostly wanted to tell them to eat their cameras.

Which might be why, she's still a little stuck in pushing it down when Luther speaks.

"Roberts," Allison corrected with a drag on the 's,' even though the look she throws him is less enigmatic with the retreat of their guest. Cursory help that happens more than just this one time. "Last name, not first. It's British." But it's Luther's look of unconnected question that makes her realize she has to do it for him. That he might have said he was watching, but it's not like it meant he knew them by any other name.

"He's on the show, too. Derek. The cop."
The main star of the show, of course.