Although this party was a lot more intimate than Tony's birthday had been, it still seemed pretty fucking crowded, an Nick scowled as he was jostled by some kid in flannel, right jeans, and thick rimmed glasses. The kid peered up at him, mumbled something unintelligible, then went back to dancing to what Nick could only assume was music but sounded like bullshit. He was kind of feeling his age right now. He picked his way through the people, nodding at familiar faces, until he reached a table to deposit his wrapped gift and went to sulk a little in a corner. These were not the kind of people he necessarily needed to network with and he was only really here for Wicked. As soon as he saw her and could chat an acceptable amount of time to be polite, he'd probably be out of here. Someone offered him a red solo cup with an unidentifiable drink inside (though with this crowd it was probably PBR), and shook his head. Nope, lesson learned, he wasn't going to drink at public functions anymore. Especially birthday parties.