Tyler thought he could feel eyes on him as he weaved through the crowd back to Summer. To an extent, that was understandable, because he was probably the only person in the room who wasn't wearing a ridiculous mask, but there was more to it than that. He kind of hoped that one of the pairs of eyes was from the man at the bar, but he didn't want to turn his head to look just in case he was wrong. Or worse, what if he was right, and the shirtless one noticed him look back? That would put them entirely on the wrong footing.

It was with a needlessly eager hand that Summer reached out to take her drink from him, swirling her straw through the liquid. There was a sparkle in her eye that was either deeply suspicious, or the reflection of a sequin.

"So, I leave you alone for two minutes, and you're already chatting up shirtless men."

It would have served Summer right to have her drink tipped up over her gorgeous dress for that comment, but Tyler would never forgive himself for leaving a stain. Or for ruining his friend's birthday. That was also a consideration.

"Being chatted up by shirtless men," he corrected, a little lazily, taking a sip of his own drink.

Summer rolled her eyes at him, but didn't comment on the distinction. "Did he explain why he was shirtless, by any chance?"

"Wants to be looked at." Tyler shrugged, gesturing a little with the hand holding the drink. "I suppose. Those weren't his exact words."

There was a faint hint of judgement from beside him, but that wasn't worthy of comment. Summer's default state was judgement. It was one of the things they had in common. As he watched Summer take a sip through her straw, though, his mouth quirked into a smile.

"How are you planning on eating dinner, exactly? Your mask is ridiculous."

"I'll take it off while we eat," she retorted, though her eyes were still tracking movement over near the bar. Tyler was fairly sure he knew what she was looking at, though he would rather die than ask. Maybe he should have said something a little more direct before walking off.

"Why not go with one of those ones, you know, that just goes over your eyes and -"

"Tyler, you don't get to judge my mask choices. Not until you learn to play along." A brief pause, for another sip, before she continued. "He's still looking this way now and then. Since you're just itching to know."

"Don't be mean. I'm not itching to know anything."

Summer's evil little laugh was normally fun to listen to, but that was when it was directed at other people.

"If I was being mean, I'd make sure he saw me snuggle in with my hand on your ass." Tyler swatted at her with his free hand, but she leaned out of reach, laughing all the louder. "Don't tempt me."

"Just looking for an excuse to touch me, aren't you?" His heart wasn't really in the comment, but on principle, it needed saying. Summer's shoulder bumped against him, in something like irritated affection. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, then sighed. "Alright. Is he looking, like, interested? Or just enjoying the view?"

"How should I know? He's wearing a mask." Tyler frowned a little, but Summer made a soft, humming noise in her throat before adding, "If I had to guess, I'd say curious, but not definitely interested."

Tyler shrugged. Summer's guesses were usually closer to the mark than they had any right to be, and if that trend continued… well, that was an acceptable answer. It was about all he could reasonably expect from 20 seconds of charm. A thank you very nearly formed on his lips, but he was cut off by a tiny brunette sliding in between himself and Summer, almost jostling the Poco Grande glass out of his hand. It was only quick reflexes and a natural distrust of anyone entering his personal space that saved it. A warning look from Summer stopped him saying anything unkind; apparently, this was another one he was supposed to be able to recognize and forgive for minor slights.

She threw herself into Summer's arms for a warm hug, and Tyler took that as his cue to return to his seat. It couldn't possibly be that long before food started to roll out, and the night could get properly underway.

The master of ceremonies took his time about explaining the nature of the charity, something that went in one ear and out the other for Tyler, as dinner was brought out to the tables. His seat was something he could only describe as 'mystery chicken', but the warning kick under the table from Summer silenced any commentary he had on the subject. In theory, what he should have been doing was making pleasant conversation, but no one was talking to him and that was thrilling, so he wasn't about to ruin it for himself by opening his mouth.

After some consideration, he was able to choke down a few mouthfuls of the chicken, which wasn't quite as bad as he feared. Not that it was good, but Tyler had an unfortunately vivid imagination when it came to food.

Gradually, he became aware that someone was talking to him. Or, at least, he assumed that they were - Summer had kicked him again under the table and motioned her head towards the seat next to him. Tyler sort of wished she hadn't taken the mask off to eat, because she was a lot easier to ignore when he couldn't see her expression. He turned to the girl next to him, the one he'd mentally named 'Pre-drinker', and forced a small smile.

"Didn't catch that?"

"I said, what do you do for a living?" She didn't look the slightest bit upset at having been ignored. Maybe she hadn't noticed.

"Oh. I model."

She looked confused, for a moment, then her eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh! Oh, I can see that. You look like you'd be good at that."

Tyler had absolutely no idea what to say to that, so he just nodded politely, forcing another mouthful of the chicken down to cover up his lack of inclination to say anything. He needn't have bothered; she kept going anyway.

"So you'd have to be in, like, really good shape, huh? You look like you are. Do you go to the gym a lot?" One of her hands reached out and squeezed his upper arm lightly. Tyler closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe carefully, slowly, and count to three.

"Mmhm. Well, not a lot. But I keep in shape."

"It's working, whatever you're doing." She giggled, and even though Tyler wasn't looking her way, he just knew from her tone of voice that she was fluttering her eyelashes at him. Her hand dropped to Tyler's thigh, and he jerked away at the contact. God, save him from handsy drunks.

Summer cleared her throat loudly and shot a look across the table at the two of them. It wasn't God, but it was appreciated anyway.

"Honey, stop touching Tyler." Her tone of voice was patient and soft, like she was talking to a rambunctious child. "He's a misanthrope." Okay, perhaps a rambunctious child with a large vocabulary.

"He's a what?" The pre-drinker's eyes were wide and confused.

"It means I don't like people in my personal space." For Summer's sake, Tyler kept his voice as even as possible. He knew some irritation was seeping through, but judging from the understanding look in Summer's eye, he'd managed at least to keep it to an acceptable level. He glanced sideways at the girl next to him. She looked reproachful, so he asked, a little wearily, "So, what do you do for a living?"

Tyler politely maintained a pretend interest in the conversation until a waiter came by to clear the table. He pushed his plate away, even though it was still quite full, nodding to the waitstaff. They didn't bother asking him if there had been a problem with his food, which was a little disappointing, but no less than he'd expected.

It must have been at least thirty minutes since he'd last checked his phone. He could probably get away with at least a few minutes on social media without attracting too much ire.

The master of ceremonies cracked a few more bad jokes into the microphone. Tyler didn't bother even pretending to listen. A band struck up, and there was a chorus of giggles from the table as, one by one, masks returned to faces and seats were emptied around him. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked up. Someone had spoken to him again, was standing next to him holding their hand out expectantly.

"Dancing counts as entering my personal space." His lip quirked into a small smile. The pre-drinker (he was going to have to learn her name, even he was starting to think he was being a little unkind to her with that nickname) looked confused, and a little hurt, but he maintained the awkward eye contact until she dropped her hand and walked away.

Tyler idly scrolled through his feed. Nothing interesting was happening to anyone else, either, from the looks of things. Maybe he should try to spice up everyone's evening a little with a picture - but then again, he hadn't been happy with the selfie he'd taken earlier, and nothing would have changed in the past hour to make it any better.

He was the only one left at the table. Even the oaf on the other side of him had gotten up, even though Tyler was quite sure he couldn't possibly be dancing. The floor might crack. Maybe he'd gone out for a cigarette, or to the bar. Bar. Actually, that didn't sound like a terrible idea. Had someone asked him to stay there, though, and keep an eye on everyone's possessions? He couldn't remember anyone having spoken to him to ask him such a thing, but to be honest, that didn't mean they hadn't. After a few minutes of weighing up options, Tyler began to push his chair away from the table, when a movement beside him again caught his attention.

Someone had settled into the seat beside him, sideways in the chair. They were holding a margarita glass in one hand, proffering a Poco Grande glass with the other.

"I had a guess," the shirtless man said. "It's nice to meet you."