The club wasn’t really Nero’s style - it had been Dante’s idea, though, and Nero knew that Dante was all about having a good time. They both needed to relax a bit, and if this was how Dante wanted to do it, then Nero was content to follow along, for now.
It was all fine... Until Dante called him a lightweight.
“I’ll show you lightweight,” Nero snapped, reaching for an untouched bottle of whiskey on the table. He really was a lightweight, and this wasn’t the place to get utterly smashed, but his ego demanded that he do something in response to Dante’s insult.
He opened the bottle and drank several healthy mouthfuls, eyes watering at the burning in his throat. With a smirk, he set the bottle back down on the table and looked to Dante. He was already feeling warm - this was not a good sign.
“Your turn,” Nero sneered, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the table. “Unless you want to lose to a lightweight.”