Being nominated for an Academy Award could have been life-changing. Miles had done phenomenal in Whiplash, and it had paid the fuck off. But he wasn’t. Not at all. He was invited, but not nominated. The film itself was nominated, as well as many playing parts of it. But even being invited was enough. All his idols were here, and they’d listen to his name being announced on the red carpet. That was more than enough.

But, honestly? That was the least of his concerns at the moment. Right now, he had his sights set on a pretty thing sitting alone at the bar of the before-party. He had been eyeing the prospect for a good moment now, and finally found the opportunity to slip away from a Kardashian or a Jenner (he didn’t really know).

He saddled up next to the person by the bar, lifting his hand slightly and ordering himself a simple beer. He didn’t want to get trashed before the carpet and ceremony. He glanced over, raising an eyebrow at how the person had their eyes heavily trained on their empty glass.

“Can I get you a refill?” He asked suddenly, deciding to just go for it.