"Why don't you invite your partner, Jason? Yes! The hyper one whose group is notorious for not being able to sit still for five seconds. Invite them to a prestigious event! What could go wrong?" That's not exactly what Bruce had said, but it might as well have been. Ever since Bruce had introduced Jason back into the public, albeit subtly, he'd been trying to get the ex-dead bird to seem more lively.

Tonight, that came in the form of attending the gala. And he loved you, he really did. But the gala was hard for even him to sit through. All this mulling about and making polite conversation, talking around what you actually mean. He was good at back-handed compliments, don't get him wrong. But an entire night of stiff conversation just wasn't his style. And he hadn't imagined it would've been yours either. But he'd invited you anyways, partly because he was sure you wouldn't show up because of the aforementioned stiffness of the event.

Though to his surprise, when the limo had pulled up in front of the manor, you'd been there right alongside him and his family to file into it. And yes, you'd looked stunning at the top of the stairs when the two of you had made your way into the building and heard the chorus of instruments from the live band, and yes he'd seen more than a few people cast jealous looks at him, probably wishing they had their arm around your waist instead of his. But he's getting antsy and he's starting to feel like his shirt collar has a grudge against his windpipe.

And he can only imagine you feel the same considering he's seen you tapping your shoes under the cloth of the small standing table for nearly the past half hour. This, accompanied with you occasionally walking off to stand on the empty balcony where he sees subtle sparks flicking across your skin (though they could easily be explained as tricks of the light considering the stylistically warped glass doors) makes him think your patience is wearing just as thin as his for this event. So he walked out to accompany you on the balcony.