Spencer eyed the brightly coloured drink sitting on Gerard's dressing table a little longingly, wondering if the risk of losing an eye would be worth leaning forward to attempt to snatch it up. He was grateful, he really was; Gerard had come into the greenhouses this morning to find Spencer mourning over the now too tight shoulders of his old vest (he'd consoled himself with the fact that he'd last worn it when he was seventeen, and when he was seventeen he had been mistaken as a lesbian quite frequently. Filling out was totally a good thing, he had nothing to worry about) and in general cursing all costumed events, and then Gerard had pretty much saved the day, but still. The last time Spencer had seen that expression of vicious glee on Gerard's face, he'd kind of been busy killing house elves.
Spencer did have an awesome mask to cheer himself up with, though it was currently lying discarded on the table. Also a top hat, and Spencer was more than a little pleased with that. It was just that it had been a long time since he'd dressed up, but there had been a time when he'd done it frequently enough that it felt strange now doing it differently. That sounded convoluted even in his head, so Spencer concentrated on staying still and trying not to worry very much at all about who might or might not be attending the ball, or the last time he'd been dressed up to join a circus.
"Uh," he said, a little nervously. "What's the glitter for, dude?"