@dashleneave!
it’s not quite the same as his penthouse affairs, where the low hum of the music’s scintillating bass rattled garlands of crystals draped on ostentatious statues, but it’ll do. there’s music, anyways, and plenty of bodies to spike maverick’s pulse to the level of excitement he frequently chases. there’s alcohol as well, flowing in an abundance he’s sure that even a pretentious school like belvedere would frown upon. it’s worth the risk of a mark on his record, though, and so the partyboy carries on. he’s about to go and interrupt a couple’s intimate whisperings, mouth on neck moreso than ear, when his wine tinted gaze falls upon dash. lips curl into a smirk and maverick reroutes. parties tended to be that much more fun when dash was around. he plucks an unknown drink off a nearby surface and steals another right from someone’s hand as he passes, no concern for the affronted huff. he’s the host; he’s invincible. the borrowed beverage he claims for his own but holds the new one out to his friend. “need a refreshment?” he all but purrs, barely heard over the pounding beat. “glad you made it over -- hadn’t seen you yet and i was getting worried!”