[sub][h3][center]Nicholas[/center][/h3][/sub][hr]

The drink weighing in his hand, Nic reminded himself that he was 593 days sober and that it would literally take the better part of two more years to rebuild this streak. [I]But did it really count if it was in Jell-O?[/I] Maybe? No? Of course not. It's Jell-O. And so, having found a compromise that allowed him to maintain his streak and indulge his inner demons without looking like a square, he slurped it down before he even realized that he'd made a decision.

Following Gen's little discovery of Cara's miracles, Nic elbowed him in the ribs and chuckled. 

"Gen. Lynn. Amelia and Keaton. Got it," he lied, unable to tell which was supposed to be which, Gen notwithstanding. Though he was suddenly feeling generally more confident. "Pleased to meet the lot of you." In an attempt to slyly match names with faces, he asked "Say, Lynn. Is that short for something? Like Caitlyn or Evelyn or.. anything to that effect? I've been told I have an Aunt Linda who sometimes goes by Lin but I suppose that's really neither here nor there."

"As for what brought me here. That's a fantastic question." Rather than saying that he had clearly been railroaded here in a conspiracy by the fates or describing his angst, he shot from the hip: "I was asking myself the same thing a second ago. I honestly think it's just one of those things where it's really complicated but it isn't all that interesting. So, I dunno," he waved his empty vessel in a wide arc before briefly eyeing the rest of them and attempting to calculate how many he could handle before it would actually break his sobriety streak.

"In short: Just thinking. Trying to lose myself or maybe, I dunno, find myself, I guess. But instead I wandered into this party. With all the stuff going on around the place I feel really bad for everybody and would love to help improve morale but, I guess, partying isn't really something I've ever done much of. This is all new ground for me."

Then he noticed that, besides Gen, there was another dude. One with a date, a posh little brunette who looked.. equally as pretty as all the other girls. Huh? This can't reasonably be beer/Jell-O goggles. Could it? Either the Jell-O shot should definitely have counted or there was an unusually high ratio of gorgeous to person in this particular cluster of people.

Then the other dude seemed to lose himself. "Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry." Unsure as to what was happening, Nic skirted over to come to his aid.

"Hey. Are you okay, man?"