He'd had to be poked and prodded to come here. A party? A media event? Not things that Nathan is in a habit of frequenting, the reclusive creature that he is. But a combination of the prodding, his difficulty saying no, and his own personal curiosity about Benjamin Factor have managed to get him over here. Even if he is mentally going back and forth on whether he should be, he is here now and will not allow himself to go back on it too early. He can do this. Maybe.

His arrival is unobtrusive, beneath notice. He hardly owns anything suitable to wear to a high-class gathering, so he's had to avail himself of something here. Despite being in more proper attire, he still manages to look out of place; the fit isn't quite right, the suit just a touch too big. His expression indicates no discomfort, but that is only because it indicates nothing at all; his shields are up, for lack of a better term. There is the occasional fidget at his sleeve, though, the periodic instance of him twisting his index finger into his hair before he catches himself.

Behind the blank expression, he is alert and attentive, bordering on the hyper-aware of everything that is going on. He makes it a point to avoid cameras or press, subtly sliding away before they can take note of him. Nathan isn't terribly public as a Numbered and he sort of prefers to keep it that way. Even without being Numbered, he would still have been uncomfortable. He just isn't very good at talking to people and has no desire to be the object of attention.

So most of the time, he'll either be very much off to the side, or by a refreshment table. Not actually . . . partaking of any refreshments when he does the latter because remembering to eat is difficult. Especially so when he is anxious.