Much to your dismay, you were forced to take part on a blind date in order to fill up the extra space. Along with your persistent friends it wasn’t long till you were already at the scheduled club; already dreading the rest of the night. You and your friends collectively met outside with 3 other boys, each one emitting the demeanour of popularity and arrogance - with just one look you already knew how this night would go; you were the reserved type, and the idea of hanging out with these blatant playboys really put you off. This thought wavered slightly with the news that another boy was arriving late, you clung onto the false hope that this extra boy with at least be normal. A hour passes; your sat at one of the booth by yourself sipping on some fanta, the booming music drowning out the cheers of the party goers. Flashing lights straining your eyes needlessly. You watched as your friends flirt with the boys - an endless torture of cringe as they dance nearby the booth you were sat. You were mindlessly chewing on the straw, spacing out as a boy sits down across from you, borden evident on his face; that hope from earlier seemed to have been fulfilled.

He glances at you “Are you part of this whole shitshow? or am i at the wrong booth?” he questions, clearly aligning with your train of thought. With your simple nod in response, he sat down more comfortably.
It was pretty awkward but at least he didn’t behave like a stereotypical clubber, unlike the other guys.