The doctors kept warning him not to drink, because it was one of the biggest triggers of his epilepsy. But Key doesn't care, not that he doesn't know how to have fun without alcohol, but it does make it ten times better. He took the risk because he wanted to feel as normal as possible, and he didn't pass up the opportunity to go out. It only took him two drinks for him to stop caring about who he was dancing with. His hair was no longer platinum blonde but a dull brown, but that didn’t draw any less attention to him.
As always he was wearing the tightest, ugliest pants out there, leopard print coupled with a leather shirt. It was a bad choice because of how restricting it was but that didn’t stop him, making his way back to the bar to get the next round of drinks for everyone, squeezing himself through the bodies of people, there was no air in here and his heart was beating in time to the music. He sidles over to the bar, hips still gyrating to the music as he rests his elbows against the counter, heavy ring tapping against the surface to get someones attention.