Charles hated the bloody parties that his parents forced him to attend. He hated being the heir for this reason alone. It would have been so much nicer if he could have left to find Piper - perhaps he could read him some of the poems he'd written for him. Absorbed with thoughts of the boy, he wasn't really paying attention to the crowds. However, he knew that he had to at least attempt to be a good host.
So, as he was grabbing a flute of champagne, he noticed someone he'd never seen before. Figuring that he could use this time to use the social skills that everyone thought he lacked, he walked over to him. "Good day. I'm Charles Hurst." He hated the title that he was given. He never used it. Of course, if he needed it, he had it. "How are you enjoying the evening?"