It's hard to miss the attractive man trying to blend in with the walls rather than socialize. He bears himself like a soldier; his posture reminds me of what some have called the lost Dauntless traditions. Back before Erudite corruption, when bravery meant honorable rather than merely daring.

Naturally, I have to introduce myself.

"I promise no one here bites," I tell him, figuring maybe a joke might help lighten his mood. "Well, that's a lie. Actually I'm sure everyone here does. But no one will, unless you tell them to."

I don't miss the flask he holds, nor the way he keeps sipping from it. I'm not one to judge, though. I've entertained the thought of getting stupidly drunk multiple times since arriving here.

"I'm Christina," I explain, extending my hand for him to shake. "I'm Tris' best friend from back home. I'm the one who sent out the invites."