A/N: Everyone else has been writing their own Riley angst stories so I thought why not add my own to the hoard. This one is a hats off to savechangestonormal

This dinner would be the death of him, Riley was positive of that. Ever since the discovery of the Templar treasure, he felt like his world did a 180. Whether this was a good or bad thing, Riley couldn't say for sure. Sometimes he missed the days when he could walk down the street without someone saying, "Hey, it's that guy who helped find the treasure!" So what, he just happens to help find a treasure worth billions that was hidden for centuries under a church. Did that mean he had to suffer through endless stiff parties? He was getting tired of them, and he was sure this one would be the same as the others. Even though he had to go, it didn't mean he couldn't whine about it.

On the way to the party Riley sat in a limo with Ben and Abigail. He occupied most of the ride by complaining, much to the agony of his friends. Even the driver seemed to be getting irritated. Finally Abigail threatened to scratch Riley's Ferrari with her keys. "I'll do it, if you don't shut it," she warned threateningly, brandishing her keys in Riley's face. The young man slumped down in his seat and pouted but stopped whining. Ben caught Abigail's eye and his lips quirked into a smile. The rest of the trip was relatively peaceful, if it wasn't for the fact that Riley began clicking the cup holders in and out.

When they arrived at the hall, reporters and photographers waited outside the limo. Riley groaned. "Come on, can't a guy just be relatively famous in privacy?" he quipped as he unfastened his seatbelt. Ben grinned as they waited for the driver to open the door.

"There's always a price to fame, huh? You'd think if you were famous people would just treat you like you weren't."

"I know right? Wait…" said Riley, trying to process Ben's statement. Getting out was like stepping into a spotlight. About twenty flashes from cameras went off simultaneously. Blinking, he tried to clear away the green splotches left over. Ben helped Abigail out of the limo. "After you, madam" he said gallantly.

"Why, thank you good Sir," Abigail answered in amusement. Watching this exchange take place, Riley couldn't help but roll his eyes. Ben had always been the gallant type.
"What?" Ben asked, putting an arm around his wife. "I'm just bringing back chivalry. You know, knights and ladies."

"Ben, Abigail isn't a lady." Riley said pointedly. Abigail stuck out her tongue at him. "At least I'm not the joker." Riley was about to spew something back when Ben held out his hand. "Okay you two. Save your witty retorts for after the party. Let's just enjoy ourselves, alright?" Riley groaned and followed them into the hall.

The room they entered was big enough, managing to fit a couple hundred people comfortably. Riley broke away from his friends and made a beeline for the buffet table. Looking over the food, he decided to sample some of the chicken and salad. Not too shabby. He glanced over at Ben and Abigail. They were milling around with the other party members talking and laughing easily. Riley sighed, wishing sometimes that he had that kind of charismatic personality. Oh well. He took a shrimp off a tray of a passing server. Ben walked over to his friend. "Enjoying yourself?" He had so speak loudly over the music and general banter from the crowd. Riley swallowed the shrimp and shrugged. "The food's not bad." Ben smirked at the comment. "That's probably the only thing that keeps you coming to these things," he said, reaching to take a chicken off a Riley's plate. "Hey, get your own," Said Riley sheltering the overflowing plate of food protectively. "Riley, you have about eight chicken legs on there."

"Doesn't mean I won't eat them all."

"You have a monster stomach. I don't get how you're still scrawny with everything you eat."

"Monster metabolism," Riley offered, chomping on his chicken. Ben snorted and headed over to the buffet table.

Riley watched him go contemplatively and resumed eating his dinner. He finished rather quickly and almost instantly a passing server took the plate from him. Riley had to hand it to them; they did their jobs well. He then looked around wondering what to do with the rest of his time.

Suddenly he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He turned around and froze. "Hello Riley." The man in front of him was tall with graying hair. He looked about in his sixties and was clutching a hat to his chest. The clothes he was wearing made him stick out in the crowd like a sore thumb. They were dirty and old, like he was living on the street. But it was his eyes that made Riley's insides go cold. They were Riley's eyes. Only they were older and wearier. The man pressed his thin lips together. "It's been a long time. I've been looking for you." Riley stepped back.

"D-dad?" It couldn't be. It was impossible. His dad reached out and grabbed him by the front of the shoulders. People around them began to stare. "I need to talk to you…about what happened." Riley shook his head numbly.

"Let me go." The man tightened his grip. Riley attempted to tear himself away but his father held fast. The crowd watching them began to mutter amongst themselves in confusion. "Listen to me, son!" The word son seemed to trigger something inside of Riley. "Let me go!" he shouted now desperately trying to free himself. People moved out of the way as the two men began to struggle violently with each other. Riley attempted to pull himself away and collided with a table, sending it to crashing to the ground. The noise drew the attention of the entire hall. "I came all this way-," the man said in desperation, "To talk with you!" Riley made a ditch attempt to jerk his body away but old man's grip was like steel. "Riley-"

"There he is!" Suddenly three security guards tore his father off of him.

"How they hell did he get in here?"
"Beats me. He's probably just some crazy bum from the street."

"Had to much to drink maybe. Throw him out of the building."

One of the security guards walked over to him. "You're not hurt, Mr. Poole?" The younger man shook his head. "Okay, good. He was just being unruly I suppose."

Riley stood numbly as they began to drag his father away.

"I need to talk to my son!" he said to them frantically. The guards laughed at that one.

"Oh really? So what's the story? You discovered Mr. Poole was your long lost son when you found out he was rich? Please, we've heard it all."

As they moved toward the front exit, the crowd parted as they past. Looking over his shoulder his father shouted, "Things are different now, Riley!"

Riley was only dimly aware of the stares and people around him asking him if he was all right. Suddenly it felt like the air was too thin and he began to panic. Riley bolted, pushing his way through the crowd. He didn't know where he was going, he only knew he needed to get away.