Steph cannot believe she let herself get roped into this.

She is not a 'gala' type of girl, okay? Usually when Bruce invites her - which happens rarely as it is - she just laughs. It's a very 'haha no' type of invitation to be floated, in her opinion. Nobody likes galas. She's pretty sure most people attending don't actually like galas. Bruce doesn't even like galas.

And maybe that's why she's here? Maybe she felt bad he keeps having to go alone. Maybe he just seemed... kind of desperate this time. Maybe Harper's insistence that 'at least the food is good' finally got to her, she doesn't know. All Steph knows is that somehow, here she is. All dressed up, at a gala. Wondering how the heck she let herself end up in this position.

It's not all bad. The food is good. Alfred provided some of the stock of the dessert table himself - she'd know his baking anywhere - and even she can't deny that the opportunity to snag herself a champagne flute and have nobody really care isn't the worst thing. But honestly? She's bored. 'High society', Steph is not, nor does she really care to be. She feels kinda pretty in her dress, but also kinda unnatural? She has no clue what to do with her hands. Maybe that's the reason everybody's always carrying some sort of drink during these things.

There's this weird sense of being absolutely invisibly ignorable, but also being constantly watched and judged. She's self-conscious of what she's doing, while also not really doing anything, actually, and then she's self-conscious about that. No wonder Cass always hides during these things, she thinks to herself, as she finds herself once again hovering in the general vicinity of the dessert table. At least the food is good. Man, Harper's gonna hear about this later.

She's a bit too lost in thought, as she reaches to snag another one of Alfred's perfectly-prepared pastries, to notice she's not the only one reaching until her hand's already bumped yours. "Oh! Sorry, excuse me. Heh, you go ahead."