( At some point in the night, Peter figures, he'll encounter the boy to whom this evening belongs. Despite being socially awkward at the best of times, and riddled with anxiety so extreme he can barely function at the worst, Peter does intend to introduce himself. And give a gift (choosing something for a person he doesn't even know, he's really Living On The Edge these days).

But he has a hard time being assertive (...asking people "where Paul is" counts as assertive, apparently), and he's kind of keeping it lowkey, waiting to catch someone saying the birthday boy's name so Peter can sidle up to him, because he doesn't actually know what Paul looks like and he's hoping to make it as least awkward as possible. Hey, you don't know me, but your friend said you could use some drugs, so I brought some to your party. Hope it's okay.

All this to say, when the young man approaches him and asks what weed is, Peter has no idea he's actually speaking to Paul himself. There's no hint of recognition on his face to any degree (including prior demonic-fueled encounters), but he does give a friendly little smile. )

Something you take to make you feel good. ( ...Drugs. He's over here offering people drugs. ) Like uh, relaxed and calm. At least, the kind I have does.

( Peter fishes out a clear bag, within which is stuffed an almost obscene amount of marijuana. He holds it up to show the other boy, grin spreading, dumb and wolfish. )

You can smoke it all kinds of ways.