It was an unspoken rule, at least Jensen thought, that Moonlight Bar & Grill was for the street-style kids, and Brews & Beans was for the ballet kids. He'd caught onto it pretty quickly when he enrolled at Laurel, just like he caught onto the strange little turf wars that happened between the two groups.

Honestly? Jensen didn't care. It was fun to tease the pretty little ballerinas and see them stumble uncharacteristically over their feet to try and say something back. It was more fun having a group of people, for once, after living in a home that tried to stamp him into a box and make him fit a mold, that he felt like he meshed well with.

Laurel was fun. Like a goddamn movie plot, sure, but hey, every place had its quirks. Out of all places in the world, New York City definitely seemed the type to have a school as dramatic as Laurel.

There were turfs though, invisible lines in even more invisible sand, that indicated that you were trespassing on territory. You and your little friends, dressed up and almost unrecognizable, if it weren't for the elegant grace that exuded from every ballet dancer. You were so close to getting away with it.

Jensen's got a finger of whiskey in his glass, sipping on it leisurely, allowing himself this one indulgence tonight. It was Friday, after all. He'd have a couple of days to recover, get back on his grind. His friends laugh around him, oblivious to the pretty sheep wondering into the mouth of the wolf's den.

"Hey," he says, patting one of them ─ Matt? Jensen thinks his name is Matt. Friends was a bit of an overstatement; he was more just friendly. "Gotta blaze." His head jerks in a silent gesture to you, alone at the bar, getting yourself a drink.

He ignores the hoots and hollers of the idiot guys he calls his friends. As long as they're focused on him, though, and not you, in a place you shouldn't be? All would be fine. Jensen hoped.

Slipping into the barstool next to you, his lips quirk in amusement. "I thought pretty princesses had bedtimes."