The music thudded out over the sound system, bass hammering as the high-tempo remix filled the room with sound. Hal found himself, rather than being anywhere near the dance floor, leaning against the bar and trying desperately to look nonchalant as he looked around furtively. He still felt as though he shouldn’t be here, then, in and endless cycle of wondering why the hell he was here at all? Did he actually want to meet somebody new here at a bar? Or did he just want to have some sort of proof that he was getting his act together? And now it was a downward spiral of whisky and coke, and complete uncertainty whether he wanted someone to notice him or not. But between the pulsing lights, and the way everybody else was moving on the dance floor, there weren’t many people content to just stand and watch. He watched the entrance, half thinking how good it would be to escape back into the fresh air, when he saw somebody coming down the stairs and nearly dropped his drink in surprise. Darius Pucey. what the hell was Darius Pucey doing here? He grimaced, and looked away quickly, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it to distract himself.
@darius-pucey
