He'd never really understood how hormones seemed to control the population as a whole. He was John. He'd never had a problem during moon cycles. No heat, or rut, or anything that would be particularly harsh on him. Nope, John was just your everyday beta with a debilitating need to do the bare minimum when it came to his magic, and a penchant for pubs.

This particular night had been spent in some American bar, smoking and blasting some loud country music. Not his typical hole in the wall place, but it had been nearby after an impromptu meeting with a few of the alphas of the league. Arrogant Jerks in his opinion, but they aren't all bad. His on again off again flame, Zatanna, is among those *ssholes, and she isn't so bad. Even if she's with some new man.

He'd tried, and failed mind you, to go home with a pretty omega. Hells, he even tried to win over a dashing Alpha bloke who rejected him harder than oil to water, ouch. But at least the beer was cheap and- Ah, cheap was all it had going for it if he was telling the truth. The scents in the place were a lot, but betas like him could control themselves.

"Oi, another over here." John called to the bartender, waving his hand around to get their attention. His crumpled tan trenchcoat was haphazardly strewn on the stool beside him, and his blonde hair was a frazzled mess, but at least he wasn't alone at home again.