Leon cranes his neck, looking around the party, weaving through the crowd and around people in all their cheap costumed glory. Past masks and plastic fangs and crappy effects makeup, he sees familiar faces, but not the one he’s searching for. It’s surprisingly crowded for what he thought was just going to be a casual group of colleagues, having been invited by a coworker, and he almost regrets forcing you to come along. Almost.

It’s also a huge relief. Or, it would be, if he could find you. Shouldn’t be too hard—you convinced him to wear matching costumes.