Stephen & Open
Stephen was on full 'good host' mode again. This always, always happened to him at parties. It was just how he'd been raised! He could barely make it three feet before he fell back into a casual conversation about how someone was, or how their dog was doing. It was maddening! The last time this had happened, he'd had Michael to rescue him from himself. But now...well, apparently everyone knew how that turned out. Alcohol helped a little. He'd loosen up quite a bit by his fourth glass of champagne.
Finally, he'd managed to peel himself away from his family, and his father's gaze, and Daphne, for five minutes of time by himself. He fled into the gardens, where the night offered him some cover to avoid getting spotted by Wildfred. with a sigh, Stephen sat on a stone bench that wrapped around the base of a cedar tree. The smell of the carpet of fallen needles was relaxing and refreshing. He could've easily spent the rest of the evening sitting there.