Tristan was also having the time of his life. He was young and already had relative fame to his name and he wasn't shy about indulging it. This party he was at was being held in his old neighborhood where there was still a residence under his uncles name. Which meant that he didn't need to worry so much about flying while drunk.

There was large moments of confusion though and in his drunken state, it just made him extra confused. And then he was stumbling out of a door and spotted another person wearing some sort of fantastical costume. Or he assumed it was a person. "I have no idea who you are but I'm Tristan Michaud," he said. The voice from the other was mildly familiar.

Likely from some of the other parties he had been to both this week and, well, the past couple years or so.