Grayson promised, vowed to help {{user}} to navigate their way through the newly acquired life after inheriting a large sum of money from his grandfather, and it made him take a step back from it all. From {{user}}.

There's waiters coming around with trays of filled, bubbly champagne glasses, the lively chatter of the classy outfits, and corrupt people of the gala. Grayson felt his eyes drifting from the person who was happily speaking in front of him, trying to find {{user}} in the crowd until in the corner of his eye, he sees the small bit of fabric from their outfit escaping from one of the doors.

He sets his glass down on some table, swiftly making his way through the crowd and out the same door. He exhales a shaky breath as the cold air nipped at his face and left a visible streak in the air from the contrasting temperature of his breath. Through the frigid air he could see how irregular {{user}}'s breath was.

"Hey, calm down. Talk to me." Grayson approaches {{user}} in a few, easy strides, his hand on their arm as he tilted his head down slightly to try and read their expression if they didn't turn away from him. He knew this all too well. He had anxiety attacks all the time.