negotiator;

tristan hale. youth hockey coach. taurus. xxxii. suburbs.

[tristanrhale]

"people think glory comes from the spotlight. but the real strength? it’s in rebuilding yourself when the lights finally go out."

name: tristan rhys hale

age: thirty-two

dob: may 10th

gender: cismale

sexuality: heterosexual

hometown: duluth, minnesota

neighborhood: suburbs

occupation: youth head hockey coach at crystal ice palace

personality: humble, steady, patient, stubborn, indulgent, self-critical

tristan wasn’t born into wealth or legacy, he was born into hard work. hockey rinks carved into frozen ponds, early mornings, late nights, long drives with his father’s thermos of coffee steaming up the truck windows. from his mom, he inherited quiet strength. from his dad, discipline and a grip like iron on every dream he chased. no one in his family expected him to become a professional athlete, but he did. and he earned every inch of that journey himself. he spent over a decade in the nhl as a forward known not for flash, but for grit. the dependable guy, the one who dug pucks out of corners, the one coaches trusted with the last shift. but too many concussions and one brutal collision forced him to face a truth he never wanted; the career he’d built his identity around was no longer safe. retiring wasn’t bravery. it felt like failure. what started as an off-season escape became home, grounding him in ways the league never could. instead of arenas, he found community. instead of pressure, he found purpose. and instead of chasing glory, he found the quiet pride in shaping the next generation. charismatic in a soft, approachable way, tristan radiates warmth but keeps his deeper wounds tucked beneath the surface. he’s loyal, generous, and endlessly patient, but stubborn when pushed and prone to carrying more guilt than he deserves. threaten the kids he coaches, the rink he built into a safe haven, or the quiet life he’s rebuilt, and you’ll find out just how strong a gentle man can be. off the ice, he’s usually walking rescue dogs, skating alone before sunrise, or losing himself in the calm of the coastline. he may not have the spotlight anymore, but the man he’s become outside of it? that’s where the real story is.

keeps every thank you note from the kids he coaches

can cook exactly three things: scrambled eggs, grilled cheese, pasta sauce

still does stickhandling drills in his garage when he’s stressed

drives an old truck he refuses to trade in

secretly loves romantic comedies

occasionally guest spots on heartbeat station’s local sports hour when they need "the hockey guy"

playlist

wanted connections

the ex he still thinks about (but won’t admit it)

a relationship that ended because of timing, travel, or tristan choosing hockey over them. they were good together, too good. he still wonders what would’ve happened if he’d chosen differently. seeing them again feels like an old bruise pressed too hard.

the one who pushes him out of his comfort zone

chaotic, bold, and unpredictable. the opposite of tristan’s calm. they drag him into fun he’d never initiate like midnight bowling, spontaneous road trips, bar karaoke. he pretends they exhaust him. he’s lying.

the parent who doesn’t like his coaching style

someone whose kid he trains at crystal ice palace. maybe they think he’s too gentle. maybe they think he’s too strict. either way, they challenge him, and he finds himself caring way more than he expected. could be slow-burn tension or comedic rivalry.

the one who hates him (because he used to be famous)

they don’t trust athletes. they don’t like "former nhl guys." maybe they think he’s full of himself (he isn’t), or they were burned by someone like him before. instant friction, slow thaw.

the one who knows his medical truth

someone in town who knows the full extent of his concussion history. we're talking the risks, the fear, the real reason he retired. could be a friend, doctor, neighbor, or someone he accidentally opened up to on a bad night. they worry about him more than they should.

the unexpected best friend

he shouldn’t click with them. they're loud, messy, dramatic, and unpredictable. they balance him. he steadies them. together, they’re the funniest "how did those two become friends?" pairing in town.

[tristanrhale]

@windsorbaystarters location: crystal ice palace

Tristan arrived after the crowd had gone. The rink stood almost empty, a pale blue light covered the smooth ice. He tied his skates at a normal pace, his jaw tight, as if he expected trouble that had not yet appeared. He stepped onto the ice and glided forward, cutting clean curves until his breathing steadied with the motion. After multiple circuits he saw someone beside the boards. He reduced his speed, drifted toward them and halted a short distance away, placing one glove on the rail. "Didn't think anyone else would be here this late," he spoke, keeping his tone quiet and level. "You skating or just hiding out?"

[jj-hayes]

JJ could not help but snort at his friend's response. "Oh, yeah... I can totally see it," he teased, laughing softly. "You do realize that this is his business, right?" He asked before he quirked his brow. "Why? What happened to you?" Despite the glitz and glamour, JJ knew that the New Year's Eve party at the Lucerna had its reputation for being the epicentre for drama. That was just a given, at this point. He had gotten used to it. "I'm hoping that Cordelia stays away from her. My sister's not quite fond of my ex, and gets a few drinks in her... I'm scared."

Seeing the way Tristan lit up at him mentioning his dog, JJ grinned. "You really do love that dog more than you love people, don't you, pal?" Honestly, he did not judge his friend for that. It just showed the kind of empathetic human that he was. You could tell a lot about a person based on how they treat animals. Based on that logic alone, Tristan was a saint. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here. It makes me feel a little less alone about being here. This place is definitely not my cup of tea anymore. It hasn't been for a while."

Of course, Tristan would be proud that Mia was continuing to be a menace in his life. JJ was not surprised by that reaction, even for a bit. "Of course, you are. You love it when she brings the chaos, don't you?" Truth be told, JJ did not mind that. As Mia grew up and he got to know more and more of her personality, he loved every bit of who she was becoming. And he was glad to know that Tristan loved her just as much. "You know, you can come over and see her whenever you want. Just text me first so that we're both home."

The way Tristan paused upon hearing JJ's question was more than enough to provide him with an answer. But he did not push the other. Not right now and definitely not here, of all places. "Is there anything I can do to make it easier? You know, we don't have to stay here until midnight, right?"

[tristanrhale]

Tristan let out a little laugh, rubbing his face like JJ had called him out. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, giving in. "Still, Adrian loves reminding people of it." When asked what was up, he just shrugged, a bit cagey. He had that same old heavy feeling that pops up when everyone else is having a blast. "Nothing happened," he added. "Just… one of those nights where everything gets loud way too fast."

Cordelia's name made him flinch. "Oh man," he said, cringing. "That's a bad mix. Exes, siblings, drinks? You should probably have a way out ready." He gestured with his glass toward the doors, half joking. "I've been eyeing the exits since I got here."

When JJ teased him about Bear, Tristan didn't even try to deny it. "Totally," he said without missing a beat. "Bear doesn't ask how my year went or expect me to be Mr. Charming. He just wants treats and loyalty, nothing beats that." The idea of his dog curled up at home made him feel a little better, a solid feeling the party couldn't give. Soon, he told himself. Just get through this.

JJ saying he was glad Tristan was there hit him in a quiet but good way. Tristan looked him in the eye, nodding once. "Yeah, me too," he said. It helped knowing he wasn't the only one pretending to enjoy the glitz. "This place used to be fun, now it mostly just feels noisy."

When Mia was offered, his smile came back. "I'll take you up on that," he said. "She's good for my soul, even with all the craziness. And honestly?" he said. "I have no plan. I was thinking maybe count down, fake being into it, then vanish soon after."

[romero-angel]

"Well, if you are, so am I," he replied, grabbing the same bag of chips off the shelf and dropping it into his basket. "Self control is a myth perpetuated by people who don't like fun. Don't let them get to you. Especially not here. This place is like the twilight zone, decision making standards are all different." The convenience store was, possibly, Freddie's least favorite place on earth. The lights were clinical and loud, the music always distorted by the sound system, and his shoes kinda stuck to the floor about half the time. Unfortunately, as the name implied, it was very convenient. And he was out of snacks for his Nic Cage movie marathon.

[tristanrhale]

Tristan chuckled and watched as Freddie grabbed the same chips and nodded. "Thanks," he said. "I needed a witness. Someone to confirm I wasn't about to disappoint my past, present, and future self." He looked at his basket, then back at the shelves, his eyes narrowing as he battled temptation. "This place is like the twilight zone," Tristan added, shifting his weight when his shoe stuck to the floor. "I swear, the moment you step in here, your brain turns off. Next thing you know, you're thinking a giant candy bar is good for you." He then looked down at Freddie's basket. "So what's the damage tonight? Full snack haul?"

[tristanrhale]

who: @readyfredd1e where: picket pantry

Tristan was stuck in the middle of the aisle, looking like he was having a major life crisis. He had a basket with just two things in it, and his other hand was hovering between chips and candy, totally unsure. The overhead lights buzzed, and the smell of fresh bread oddly mixed with energy drinks and floor cleaner. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This always happens to me," he mumbled to himself. "I come in for one thing, and suddenly I'm arguing with myself like it's some big emergency." He finally grabbed a bag of chips, then stopped, looking over when he noticed someone nearby. "Be honest," he said with a half grin. "Am I making a bad call here, or does nobody actually have self control in this place?"

[tristanrhale]

who: @briannaxsanders where: avenue 20

Tristan felt completely out of place in this mall, and he knew it. He stood outside a fancy store with one hand in his pocket, another carrying a bag with a scarf he'd bought for his mom's birthday. Everything here was too sparkly, too pricey, and just too perfect. He shifted, looking down at the bag he was holding as if the scarf might jump out and bite him. He saw Brianna and a smile immediately spread across his face, the easy kind you get with someone you know well. "Are you here to save me?" he asked, stepping in front of her and lowering his voice like he was admitting to something bad. "I've somehow ended up in rich people land, and I'm about to accidentally buy something that requires a payment plan."

He gestured to the stores behind him, then back at her, looking both entertained and relieved. "What are the chances we'd bump into each other here?" He paused. "Actually, don't answer that. I bet you're way more comfortable here than I am." He looked around again, then grinned.

[bellamyford]

bellamy couldn't explain why she'd thought it was a good idea, or why she suddenly felt confident enough on her own two feet. all she knew for certain was that she couldn't stand another second in the home that felt more suffocating than not. "i'm usually bold, always brave." she grinned at the handsome man, the change of venue giving him the upper hand this time around.

"i was hoping there would be someone here to keep that from happening." she met his gaze as a softer smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. he looked different without the neon lights, sweeter somehow. "as much as i like watching, i prefer participating more." her head lulled to the side slightly as he watched him, curious if he'd accept the subtle challenge or not.

[tristanrhale]

Tristan felt that familiar little thrill in his chest when she grinned. It made him feel calm and focused all at once. "Mm," he hummed, gliding closer, his skates barely making a sound. "Okay, I see you're confident." His eyes were warm now, less playful and more serious. "But the ice doesn't care how brave you are, it'll humble anyone."

He looked at her skates, then back at her face, already figuring out her balance and how she stood, where he might need to help. His instincts kicked in before he even thought about flirting—call it his coach brain, his protector brain, whatever, but he didn't rush her. He never liked to force people into things before they were ready. "I can keep you from falling," he said casually. "At least until you get used to it. After that, you're on your own." He paused, then smiled. "Unless you take a huge spill, then I get to say 'I told you so'."

[insporp]

(c)

[alexioskatrakis]

@tristanrhale Location: Alexios's house in the mountains

The first Monday evening of the new year. The sun had only set an hour ago, but already, Alexios could feel the chill settling like lead in the mountain air. He threw another log onto the fire and was rewarded with a burst of fresh embers, a promise of warmth. Eftri was curled up on the plush of his couch somewhere at his back. She opened her eyes for only a moment, startled by the crackle and flame, and then she promptly went back to sleep.

"Some guard dog you are," he said, not an ounce of malice in his voice. He stood and scratched behind her ears, and she loosed a contented, drowsy sigh at the familiar touch. Under other circumstances, perhaps he might have draped himself over the couch alongside her, curled up with his reading glasses and a good book before it was time to make dinner.

But the dog wasn't the only other presence in his house that evening.

Dusting his hands off on his long-ago-paint-splattered work pants, Alexios wandered back through the cabin, following the comforting sound of manual labor. He had been around noise before. Noise of the worst kind. This, by comparison, was gentle. A soothing reminder of the friendship he had found in this corner of the earth, hundreds of miles away from every other home he'd known.

"Fire's alive again, and I just turned the thermostat up, too. It should warm up in here soon," he said, rounding the door to the downstairs bathroom. A giant painter's cloth, folded infinitely over itself, lay across the floor, as Alexios wished to preserve the wood underneath. But the walls were another story. He was hoping to paint them soon; for now, he and Tristan needed to focus on patching and sanding them.

Speaking of Tristan—"You do know you have plaster smeared down the side of your cheek, yes?"

[tristanrhale]

Tristan didn't look up right away. Honestly, sanding gave his hands something to do and shut his brain up. The steady up and down, the rough feel, doing it over and over—it kept everything else manageable. He slid the block down one more time, slower, then stopped. "…I was wondering why my face felt chilly," he said, looking over his shoulder. He put the block down and wiped his hands on his jeans, then he rubbed his cheek with his palm, which just smeared the plaster more. He snorted a little. "Great," he added. "I look like drywall won a fight with me." Usually, he'd care more about looking dumb. But right now? It felt strangely normal.

When Alexios brought up the fire and the thermostat, Tristan smiled. His fingers were getting cold, his wrists stiff, and he'd just been ignoring it. Being warm meant he didn't have to act as tough. "You're a lifesaver," he said, and he meant it. "I was about five minutes from faking numb hands just to stop sanding without giving up." His eyes went to the living room, where Eftri was totally sprawled out. That made him smile before he could stop it. Resting dogs always did that. "She's keeping the good vibes," he said casually. "Very important job, can't rush that."

He grabbed his water bottle, took a drink, then leaned against the doorframe. His muscles complained in that dull, earned way. He didn't mind it, it felt real. Better than the restless feeling from doing nothing. "The wall's almost ready for the next coat," he said, nodding back at the bathroom. Then, quieter, like he hadn't meant to say it, "This place is coming together. Feels… good." He searched for the right word and gave up. "Working on something that actually stays put." He rubbed his cheek again with his sleeve, which worked better this time, then he looked back at Alexios with a small smile. "Are you gonna tell me if I missed any other spots, or are you just gonna let me walk around like this all night?"

[tristanrhale]

who: @bellamyford where: crystal ice palace

The rink was exactly how Tristan liked it – early, quiet. The ice was clean, the air crisp and cold, and the Zamboni's hum was a distant memory. He leaned on the boards at center ice, skates on but helmet still in hand, his breath making little clouds. Down at the far end, a couple of kids and their coach were doing drills, their laughter echoing. It felt good, familiar.

He saw Bellamy near the entrance and a smile instantly appeared. "You're either really brave or really bored," he called out, his voice easily reaching her. "Most people don't just walk into an ice rink unless they're ready to fall on their ass." He straightened up, pushed off the boards, and glided over, stopping a few feet from her so he wasn't too close. "Are you skating, he asked, glancing at the rental skates and the ice, "or just here to watch me pretend this is easy?" He paused, then softened his smirk a bit. "Either way, good timing. Ice is still behaving."

[levigoldstein]

Working out was one of Levi's regular habits, when you worked in the medical field, when your job depended on you being at least semi in shape, it was a regular habit for him. He wasn't always one to hit the gym, he wasn't someone who had to have a specific routine, but he liked to switch it up. Doing the same thing lead him to getting bored, and if she got bored that meant he would fall into a rut and not work out for days. Something that didn't bode well for him when he had long shifts in an ambulance. Today was getting some work out in that involved weight lifting, it was probably his favorite way to train, running being his least favorite.

As he moved to a different machine setting it, he heard the metal plates hit together, jarring him from his thoughts. "Definitely looked easy, man." Levi let out a small chuckle, "I'll be honest, I wasn't really paying attention. Was in my own little zone." As he shrugged, "I mean, are you lifting more than your body is really ready for, I heard the plates hit a little harder and that's a sure fire way to pull something, or worse. I'd hate to have to go into work mode if you snap a ligament in your back. Hurts like a bitch too."

[tristanrhale]

Tristan gave a short laugh. It was like Levi just read his mind without even trying. He put the dumbbell down a bit softer this time, suddenly noticing how loud it was when it hit the rack. Point taken. Less showing off, less noise. "That's fair," he said, rolling his neck. "Guess I was lifting like I'm still 25 and can't get hurt." He looked at Levi, raising his eyebrows. "My brain's being rude, honestly. It's not in my body anymore." He took a slower drink of water, letting his arms cool down. "Thanks for the heads up, though. Last thing I need is someone going into 'work mode' on me while I'm on the floor pretending I'm okay." He paused, then gave a lopsided smile. "Which, just so you know, I would absolutely do."

Tristan nodded to the weights Levi had been messing with. "You do this often?" he asked, just wondering. "You've got that vibe like you know your stuff and you've seen worse. Makes me think I should actually listen instead of pushing it."

[sebasticnsteele]

"Honestly, I may steal that from you and start referring to it that way too." Because after all, those words were true. Now that Sebastian had reached his thirties, he felt like he had gained so much experience and wisdom compared to his twenty year old self. "At least we have a good reason for our muscles and joints to hurt, since we're actively working them out." Though even if he wasn't working out, he was sure he would still have aches and pains from the workouts he got in various dance rehearsals and classes. "Well you haven't pulled anything yet, so seems like you're doing pretty well."

[tristanrhale]

Tristan chuckled, softer this time, and nodded like he was finally okay with what he was thinking. "I'd rather be smart and a bit sore than young and stupid any day," he said. He was joking, but you could tell he meant it. He moved his feet, stretching his shoulders, feeling every ache and strain way more than he used to. "Not getting hurt is a win," he said again, more seriously. "Which is crazy, because there was a time I thought if I wasn't totally wiped out after working out, I hadn't done enough." He shook his head, half laughing, half annoyed at his old self. "Now it's like, if I can walk tomorrow and don't need a bunch of ice packs, I call that progress."

He looked around the gym, at the mirrors, machines, and people busy working out. This place used to feel like his comfort spot. Now, it felt more like a compromise. "I think the toughest part is letting go of how it used to be," he said, sounding chill but honest. "Your mind remembers you a certain way, but your body's like, 'nope, not doing that anymore.'" He looked back at Sebastian and gave a small, real smile. "When someone else calls it experience instead of just getting old? Makes it feel less like I'm losing ground and more like I'm just… finding my new normal."

[christenbelmnte]

truth was, christen hated fitness factory — she was merely there out of spite, to prove something to someone who already had her number. her physical therapist would've told her extra exercise beyond the prescribed regiment wasn't necessary, but her muscle memory demanded the same strain she'd put on it for close to thirty years. slacking up didn't feel much like an option. however, the walls of fitness factory always felt as though they were closing in, growing smaller and smaller until she was in a box from the pain she tried telling herself would be worth it to push through. she'd grind her teeth down to the gums before she'd admit it to herself ( or worse, the doctor ) that she was officially staring down the barrel of a gun whose bullet she would not be able to swallow.

at least arm day didn't kill her the way everything else did. she could go through the motions, feel somewhat like normal. she was working through the last of her triceps circuit and moving towards the bicep curl when she found her path blocked by someone else pausing for a water break, the same guy she'd caught floating from machine to machine throughout the duration of her own workout. once she realized he was talking to her, she pulled one of her airpods out, offering the beginnings of a smile. "nah, didn't look like you're going to regret that in the morning," she said. "although the fact you're still working out in that hoodie makes me question your sanity — i'd sweat to my bitter end if i were you."

[tristanrhale]

Tristan laughed, looking at the hoodie around his waist like it surprised him. "You got me there," he said, untying it and tossing it on the bench next to his water bottle. "I've been messing up since I got here. That's just the most obvious one." He leaned back against the rack, rolling his shoulders. That familiar ache settled in, making him feel strong and old all at once. This used to be easy, or at least easier. Back when his body just did what he wanted without complaining, without all these little creaks and warnings. He tried not to think about it too much. That would just make him mad, and he'd had enough of that today.

"Thanks for saying that," he added, looking at her, his eyes quickly checking out her arms, which clearly showed she'd been working hard. "I'll take 'not instant regret' as a good thing." He paused. "You actually sound like you know what you're doing, though, which makes me wonder." He grinned easily, but you could tell he was curious. "Do you work out a lot, or do you just naturally spot bad moves?" He took another drink of water, then gestured to the machines. "Also, respect for surviving arm day. That's the only part of my body that hasn't totally given up on me yet here." He kept his tone light, but there was a real honesty to it, a quiet comfort in not being the only one pushing it a little too hard. "I'm Tristan, by the way. If you hear a loud crash later, that's just me finding my limits in real time."

[yaraaslan]

She didn't mean to attend tonight. In fact, if it wasn't for her grandmother practically kicking her out of the house, telling her to go, have fun, like it was the simplest thing in the world, Yara wouldn't even think twice about putting herself in a position like this. Still, she’d put in some effort to look less like Adrian’s maid and more like an actual guest this time; hair neatly done, a pair of heels she hadn’t worn in ages, and of course a dress she barely remembered pushing away in the back of her closet. 

Yara caught the lift of his glass before she heard his voice, already half-smiling by the time he reached her. "God, no." she muttered softly, shaking her head. She felt like a fish out of water, like she didn't belong, and for the most part, she didn't, but at least there was a familiar face right there with her. "I had someone ask me what my biggest accomplishment was this year while holding a cocktail shaped like a bird. I almost said surviving." She paused, making a face. "But I didn’t want to be that person. So I lied and said… organizing my pantry.. like that isn't the most obvious lie." Smiling this time, baby blues focused on the untouched drink in her hands, before she glanced back at Tristan. "I.. think so? I'm not sure. I was considering hiding outdoors for a moment. Get some fresh air, while keeping myself away from all the sugary options." She replied, voice soft, uncertain. Maybe leaving was the best option at this point. "And you? How's your night so far?"

[tristanrhale]

Tristan chuckled softly. "Just getting by is definitely something to be proud of," he said, totally serious. "For real, it deserves an award. But organizing your pantry? That's a bold move. Super ambitious. Very 'my life is perfect and all my spices are in alphabetical order' of you." He didn't mention how much her answer resonated with him. Surviving. That word had been stuck in his throat all evening, feeling more accurate than any of the success stories people kept fishing for. Seeing that same feeling on her face made him relax a bit, like he wasn't the only one barely holding it together until the night ended.

He glanced at her drink, still full, and felt that familiar pang of worry—not a huge alarm, just a quiet sense that she was about to bolt. He knew the feeling well because he lived with it too. "Fresh air sounds like a good idea," he agreed. "Less noise, fewer people asking you to sum up a whole year like it's a job review." He motioned towards the back doors. "I was thinking the same thing. Calling it a break, not… running away." Honestly, the room had felt suffocating since he got there. The bright lights, the pressure, the way everyone seemed to be celebrating something he hadn't yet caught up to. Talking to her felt like he could finally relax without needing an excuse. He moved a little, turning more towards her and away from the crowd. "Want to grab that fresh air together?" he asked, sounding lighter but still sincere. "Before someone traps us and asks for our 'word for the year' and I totally panic and say 'dog'?"

[sophsun1]

FRIENDS – 6.01: The One After Vegas

[sebasticnsteele]

It had been a while since Sebastian had set foot into a gym. Usually he preferred his exercise in the form of the dance classes he taught. But with the new year right around the corner, he made a vow to himself to start working out on a somewhat regular basis.

With his airpods in his ears and the soundtrack to one of his favorite musicals blasting, Sebastian settled on a machine that worked out his legs, since that seemed like a good place to start. When he began to break a sweat, he decided to move onto another machine. He stood awkwardly off to the side for a moment as he scrolled through his playlist to choose another song, while also deciding on which machine to go for next. It was then that he realized the man next to him was talking to him, which prompted him to pull one earbud out and listen in. "I feel like once you hit a certain age, any kind of activity is going to leave you with a sore back," he said with a chuckle.

[tristanrhale]

Tristan grinned, but underneath it was that familiar pang. It always came out at the gym, with those mirrors and machines reminding him of a body that used to just do what he told it. He hated comparing himself to back then, hated how his brain still kept tabs. But it was nice not being the only one feeling it, to have someone else just casually say the same thing without making a big deal out of it.

He breathed out, rolling his shoulders again like he could physically shake off the thoughts and the stiffness. "Yeah," he said, his mouth twitching up as he looked at Sebastian. "I always tell myself it's not age, it's… experience piling up." He paused. "Sounds better than 'everything hurts for no good reason.'" He took another sip of water, then gestured to the equipment around them. "I used to hit the gym like it was a contest. Now, I'm just trying to get through it without needing ice and an apology to my back." The joke about himself came easy.

[tristanrhale]

who: @yaraaslan where: the lucerna

Tristan had already yanked his tie loose, then tightened it back up because he's stubborn, and then finally just gave up. It hung open now, his jacket slung over his chair. The room was loud around him. The music thumping, people laughing, glasses clinking. Everyone was acting like midnight wasn't right around the corner.

He saw Yara across the room and raised his glass in a little hello before walking over. "Tell me I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed already," he said, speaking just loud enough to be heard without yelling. "I swear every time I turn around, someone else is asking how my year was, like I have some perfect answer ready." He looked at her, and his face softened into a relaxed smile. "You doing alright?" he asked. "I'm about two chats away from hiding by the dessert table until midnight."