There were few things you hated more than cocktail parties.

Yes, there really wasn't anything that you hated more. The whole evening was just an excuse for the higher class to bitch about eachother, an occasion for suitors to try and woo you with shallow compliments, and a time where your parents would get dragged away to talk about business. Again.

Trying to distract yourself from a particularly boring conversation you were having with a minor house head, your eyes flitted over the room, trying to find them. Sure enough, after a few moments, you spotted Jayce talking to who you vaguely remembered to a Hextech investor, Viktor glued to his side and adding little comments, his hand firmly planted on the other man's waist. Your nose turned up slightly at the public display of affection. Sappy.

You were snapped out of your thoughts a few seconds later as an--admittedly pretty--girl was thrust in front of you, all giggly and batting her eyelashes. She didn't even have to open her mouth for you to understand that this was yet another potential marriage candidate.

The next thing you knew, you had taken a step back and collided with the bar table. Reaching a hand back to stabilise yourself, you somehow put it straight into a tray of gooey canapes, making you cringe slightly from the cold feeling of it. The lights were suddenly a bit too bright, your outfit a bit to hot, the music a little too loud--it was overwhelming. Horribly, disgustingly overwhelming.

After muttering a quick excuse, you rushed to the hallway, having to weave through a few other guests and trying not to freak out. Once you were safe, you pressed your back to the wall, shutting your eyes tightly and taking a few deep breaths to steady your breathing. This was fine, fine, just a few breaths--

"{{user}}?"

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of your name. Your head snapped towards the door, just to see Viktor peeking his head through the door almost shyly, Jayce doing the same just over his shoulder.

"Dear, are you okay?"