The camera had, admittedly, refused to do anything for him, save paint a giant metaphorical sign above his head. He really hadn’t intended on doing a whole lot of anything with it, aside from piecing together an overall documentation that might only land him with mild griping on Jonah’s part. Snooping — or, god forbid, provoking gossip— remained something that he had approximately no intention of delving into. Still, it was too easy for anyone to take one look at the camera hanging from his neck, and assume the worst. So, in retrospect, the planning could have been a touch more thorough. Probably.
A sigh pushed past his lips, gaze dropping to his suit to check for anything out of place. Okay, but if he had accidentally dropped any of that chocolate whatever-it-was on his person, there was a chance he still wouldn’t find reason to get bent out of shape about it. Totally worth it. Not that it mattered, considering the decided lack of evidence it had left behind. Huh, that shouldn’t have felt as surprising as it did. “One point for the good guys,” he mumbled to no one, shoulder lifting in a shrug.
Peter tugged at the hem of his jacket to straighten it, taking a moment to mourn the tie he had only just managed to make look presentable. It was a little skewed, even after so many minutes standing in front of his bathroom mirror with a steadily growing frown. He pressed his lips together, biting back another sigh, and hoped that it wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Between sparkling lights and expensive names, there was enough for people to focus on in favor of his tie. It was fine.
Unless there was a bathroom nearby? No — not important. He had things to do. Important things. Finding his friends, for example: both of whom he had arrived with and managed to lose sight of within an immediate ten minutes. That would have been an impressive feat sitting by itself, but the fact that he had lost Harry and MJ only made it that much more so. Really, they both looked like they had pulled themselves straight from Vogue, eye catching in a way that didn’t feel out of place or forced. His best friends. And, okay, he needed to find them.
Shaking his head to clear it, Peter turned his attention back to the crowd. He moved to skirt around a small cluster of businessmen, all wearing different versions of the same polite smile. The urge to laugh bubbled in his chest, but it died the minute he caught sight of red hair, familiar and so welcome. He stepped around someone else to move closer, hand lifting in a half wave to get her attention. Without anyone to block his path, he could actually see her again, and oh god, that reference to Vogue had been spot on. Mary Jane looked like she belonged there. And— why had he wanted to tuck his camera away, again?
Close enough to speak without shouting, he tilted his head to the side, mouth stretched into an impossibly wide smile. “Um, excuse me? Totally random party-goer? Esteemed NYC paparazzi here; would you mind doing me a favor?” In a familiar motion, something she had probably seen too much of, he lifted the camera to his face, focusing for only a split second before pressing the pad of his finger to the button. “Say cheese?”
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