Just go along, Dick had said. It's just one night, Tim had told him. It'll be nice to have you, Bruce had said.

Bunch of bullcrap, and Jason was ticked at himself for giving in to it.

He hated these gala parties. He always had even as a kid, but at least then he'd been expected to be... well, a kid, and people would kind of leave him alone. Granted, people left him alone now, but it was an entirely different vibe, wasn't it? He was used to the sidelong looks, the quiet conversations that stopped abruptly if he got close. Used to it, and hated it.

Bruce owed him big for this, dangit. He just didn't fit in with the highbrow crowd, even before his... well... everything. What the heck was he even doing, standing here in a fancy suit, holding a glass of wine, trying to look like he was some sort of sophisticated gentleman? He didn't even like wine.

It didn't help that the mayor had Bruce locked down, trying to talk him into investing in something-or-other campaign whatever, Jason assumed. The apologetic glance Bruce had shot him had at least been momentarily satisfying, but he'd just been standing awkwardly off by himself for the past like fifteen minutes. At least his presence here was giving all these judgmental bozos something to talk about? He should just leave, but that might draw even more attention to himself. And it would embarrass Bruce. And for all their troubles, Jason did get that Bruce was at least trying to extend olive branches, mend bridges, whatever. And he could appreciate that, even if he wasn't entirely sure if he was ready to fully let him, yet.

But he was here, wasn't he? So he must be at least somewhat amenable to the idea. Ugh.

Jason huffs out a breath and turns to start weaving his way towards the refreshments again. There's gotta be something edible among all the dumb rich person tiny hors d'oeuvre things. He's so used to people giving him a wide berth that he doesn't even notice the person until he's nearly collided with them.

"Oh crap! Sorry, uh... sorry."