Totally not his scene— he'd much rather be at home.

Pumping music that rattles his teeth. Flashing neon that leaves imprints on the inside of his eyelids. Wasted people who can't keep their hands off. Safe to say, Hollis Knox isn't the clubbing type— but when your coworkers invite new employees out, it's good form to say yes at least once.

That said, those very same coworkers had all vanished into the crowd a long time ago. Knox has been alone at the bar for who knows how long, slowly getting tipsy by himself, cause in the unfortunate crossfire between the jukebox and the dance floor.

Head pounding and whiskey on the back of his tongue, Hollis Knox downs the rest of his glass and snatches his notebook off the bar. There's lounge rooms upstairs, much quieter than this.