The feeling of the makeup had Peter blinking over and over again, clearly unsure about how he felt on the sensation and worried about how long until he accidentally ruined it by rubbing his eyes. Blinking stopped when he got an excellent if odd view of Simon from below, then watched him go to get dressed. Everything was a bit of an alien feeling tonight, from the makeup to the vinyl pants to the mesh shirt he dragged over his head before he followed Simon towards the mirror, borrowing a corner of it so he could stare at his unfamiliar face, eyes framed in black.

"Only about a thousand," Peter half-joked, but he tried to think about the important things. What did he want to start with? If no one was going to touch him, then he wasn't worried. Simon didn't make promises he wasn't going to keep. So with worry out of the way (for now), he puzzled through things until he had something perfect crop up to the top.

"What do you expect from me tonight?" Whether or not this... worked out, he imagined if Simon was taking him to this thing, Simon was expecting something from him - to do, not do, say, not say, he had no idea, but he didn't want to upset or embarrass Simon, either.