The first thing that really fully registers for Owen, once his brain has clicked back into working order (crawling back out of whatever hole it had been startled into), is that he's being held in place by a firm hand on his shoulder. Beyond that, he doesn't register much other than the words-- they slip into the space between one thought and the next, catching a hole between moments-- and the whole thing is over before he can really catch up with what's happening. A moment later, it all comes crashing in-- the roaring in his ears makes itself known, and all he knows for a moment is that he has to try to find somewhere safe, he has to-- somewhere safe-- a wall-- somewhere-- he ends up near the stage, around what would be the 'backstage' area, his back pressed up against the wall and his breaths rushing out of him. He's familiar enough with panic attacks by now to recognize the shaking in his hands as not the result of too many energy drinks, for once-- he just needs-- he just needs to breathe, take deep breaths, what was the count? In for-- four? Was it four? He tries that-- in for four, out for two-- increases the length of the breaths as he goes along until the pain in his chest has eased a little, and he can at least begin to think. The Rogues-- so, the Rogues were definitely a thing, then, they were-- and they were at the party. Which was. Not that surprising, but. Fuck, he'd let her sneak up-- sneak up right behind him, she'd been right against his back, she'd-- it had been a she, hadn't it? The voice-- yes, the voice seemed female. So that was. Most likely-- she-- he was still alive, though, as far as he-- she'd been touching his jacket. In a flurry of movement, Owen has his jacket off and tosses it on the floor a few feet away, before gluing his back to the wall again, where no one can sneak up on him.
It takes another few moments before he can connect more than a couple of thoughts together at once-- her words keep slipping back in, scattering things, but-- his sister. His sister can make this better. Owen's digging his phone out of his pocket without thinking further before-- well. There are Rogues at the party. He can't. He can't drag her out here when danger is-- but-- no. Owen holds his phone close to his chest for another few minutes, taking deep breaths.
In the background, he hears activity on the stage-- it takes a bit to focus enough, but it becomes clear in the next moments that it's the Big Reveal. Which means-- for the next ten minutes or so, at least, things are safe. He should-- he should tell someone, just in case she's still here. Uh.
He'll... He'll deal with that in a minute, for now, just-- Owen sinks down the wall, hoping that he really has found a spot where no one will find him, and drops his head into his hands.