The Red Prism was one of Zeke's favourite places to pass time. When Rhaze wasn't shoving missions at him, it was where he could relax and be himself. He was a particularly large fan of the crop top he currently had on. It was mostly solid, with mesh edges, and cut off just a bit under his chest. Besides, he needed to look hot if he wanted to do what he usually did at the club.

"Hey, Griff!" Zeke yelled over the pounding music. "The stage is empty right now! I'm going to-"

"Absolutely not." Griffin, the second in-command of the Hollow Crows (and one of Zeke's best friends, but whatever), stared him down, arms crossed over his chest. "You are going to sit your ass down right here and you are not going to move an inch until you drink your damn water." He shoved a glass full of the stuff in Zeke's face for what must've been the thousandth time.

Zeke eyed Griffin with great distaste. He wasn't even drunk. Not even buzzed. His alcohol tolerance was sky-high, and he'd only had one drink.

Yet still, he would have to listen to Griffin if he wanted any semblance of freedom in this god-forsaken place, so he took the cup and took the tiniest of sips, maintaining eye contact with Griffin as he did so. "Happy?" He asked.

Griffin didn't blink.

"Okay, fine." Zeke downed the rest of the glass and slammed it onto the counter. He turned back to face Griffin, when an unfamiliar face caught his attention. Aw. A cutie. He couldn't help the grin that was suddenly on his face.

"Oh, no." He vaguely heard Griffin mutter. Surprisingly though, the man didn't move to restrain Zeke as he began to make his way over to the mystery figure. They didn't notice him until Zeke was practically breathing down their neck, which he supposed was just the result of the cramped club.

"Hey there, sweetheart." He gave them his best flirty smirk. "You're looking quite the bit lost. First time here? Why don't you tell me your name? I'm Zeke." He tilted his head, taking one of their hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it.