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The Devil's Nest, Thursday Evening

The DJ wasn't playing The Macarena, but he seemed to be stuck on music with Spanish in it. This somehow translated to a ton of Pitbull. Because he thought this was Miami or something. Or a Moderately Paced and Mildly Irate movie.

Derek was... not really enjoying this.

He was just going to spend his evening sighing dramatically and cleaning the bar. Aggressively cleaning that bar. Because that would help him.

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Fun times were had by all.

Well, at least the island's other bar was playing Brian's kind of music. (What?) "Hey, can I get a Corona?" he asked as he slid onto a barstool. He really needed a Corona, Derek.

Of course it was. UGH.

Derek nodded, really glad this guy wasn't asking for something complicated. Because, let's be honest, he was bad at bartending. And it fit the music theme.

He shoved the beer over at the guy. "Wait, aren't you a student?"

HOW DID YOU GET PAST TINY, CADE?

"Wow," Brian said, "no one's mistaken me for a high schooler in a long time. I'm a teacher, actually."

"Good," Derek replied. "This is the bar that doesn't serve teenagers."

Unlike the other one.

"Wait, what? The other one does?" But there had only been adults there when Brian was there!

"Yep." Probably why it was the busier bar.

"I'm...pretty sure that's illegal." Actually he was 100% sure that was illegal, being in law enforcement and all. He didn't seem to care that much, though.

"You're new here." It was adorable.

"Does it show?" Brian asked wryly. "Yeah, I had my first class today. Driver's Ed. Some of these kids are really hopeless." And not always because they were from worlds without cars, either!

Weird, right?

"You get used to that." And then you teach baking with a talking pink pony. So. "Try not to scare them with the new-fangled automobiles."

"Oh, hey," Brian realized. Introductions, they were a thing. He offered his hand to Derek across the bar. "I'm Brian."

"Derek," he replied, giving the hand a look before taking it.

What was the matter? It was a perfectly nice hand.

...wait. "Derek...Hale?"

"Yeah?" Oh god, if this was gonna be a fight, he was going to be so annoyed.

Brian was willfully resisting the urge to lunge across the bar and punch him in the face, actually. "Yo, where's the key to my apartment?" Cough it up, Derek.

"You're the guy leaving me messages?" Derek rolled his eyes like the drama queen he was. "I called your girlfriend and she already has the key. Said to mail it to you guys on the mainland."

It was a woman who answered, so Derek was assuming here.

Fucking McIntosh. "Ex," Brian lied easily. "Ex-girlfriend. And I've been sleeping in my car since Saturday, because guess who's not here?"

Lie.

"I don't care. Change the contact number on your lease then. I have spares at the building, but you'll have to wait until I'm done here."

Cheater. "Fine," Brian said. "Just get me another beer."

Nyah. Deal with it.

"Finish this one first." He'd offer you a free beer for your trouble, but lies. Lies. Liza Minnelli.

Maybe he was lying because his relationship with his fake ex-girlfriend was complicated, Derek. You don't know his life. "Fine," Brian said. Finishing his beer was going to be no problem. At last, he was going to sleep in a real bed.

Except Derek.

But he doesn't count.

My coworker keeps playing thiiiiiis.

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The Devil's Nest, Thursday Evening

The Bar

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The Lounge/Dance Floor

VIP Area

OOC