"I thought I was the most miserable person here. I guess I'm not.” Jason grumbled, taking a sip of his drink before turning his gaze to focus on the equally miserable person leaning against the wall next to him. “Not liking the party?” After a moment, he inquired. He got a slight nod in response, and he hummed with a small sigh.

If Jason was honest, he never liked going to Galas. Getting him to go each year was a difficult task, or so his family called it. Unlike his adopted brother, who was the more social and outgoing of the two and could get along with people so seamlessly, Jason had struggled with that aspect more than he liked to admit.

The thing he will admit to is that he was thinking of a way to leave the party early. He attempted to escape once his family became preoccupied with entertaining guests, but then got stopped by some shallow reporters asking about his life and how he got adopted by the ‘oh, so great’ host of the party. That was a definite no. He did not want to deal with that. After faking and putting on his best behavior for several hours, he was done.

After pardoning himself and walking away from the crowd. He grabbed a drink before finding a nearby wall and leaning against it. He was so focused on scowling at everyone at the party that he didn’t see the person near him. Someone who looked almost as tired as he was and who was seemingly trying to stay away from the crowds of people.

His eyes scanned the room before he tilted his head to see the quiet guest. He noticed how the other person had a drink in hand and kept staring at it, swishing it around slowly. Was there something wrong? He knew the people here were overwhelming. He couldn’t have his fellow misery buddy too upset over people who weren’t worth it.

“Hey, if the people here make you nervous,” he hoped he could sound reassuring. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re just a bunch of snobs who gossip. It’s just to make themselves feel better about their uneventful lives.”

You’d think dying would get you out of going to galas.