TROUBLE (r. lupin)

o n e

Remus Lupin kept quiet about it, but he hated crowds. He hated being surrounded by strangers, all those sweaty bodied mouth-breathers, and he hated the constant noise. He much preferred sitting in his armchair at home wearing his favourite sweater, totally immersed in a good book. God, what he wouldn't do to be back in the quiet warmth of his London appartement. Instead, he was standing in line with an extremely chatty red-headed woman, trying to get into a very popular muggle nightclub. If being surrounded by people at least ten years younger than him wasn't distressing enough, everyone was dressed in bright colours and bathed in glitter. He felt like a fish out of water in his blue jeans and brown tweed jacket. He wasn't even able to carry his wand with him.

"-And then I said, 'that's ridiculous, Beth, he should totally pay for ruining your shoes.'" The redhead (Angel? Annabelle?) paused, waiting for Remus to react. After a delay, he raised his eyebrows, smiling and humming in agreement. The nasty part of him sighed in relief; it was the first time she'd stopped talking since they met up for their blind date.

Honestly, it was like someone had played some cruel trick on him, setting them up for a date. When his old co-worker, Jimmy, told him he'd met a girl that was 'an absolute stunner' and offered to ask her out on a date on Remus's behalf, Remus had been picturing dinner in a quiet restaurant with a sweet girl. So he agreed. Instead, he got a beautiful, charming, very loud woman who dragged him to this place filled to the teeth with twenty-somethings, neon lights and music with too much bass. Not how he pictured his Friday night going. As much as he loathed this ruckus, anything was better than the uncomfortable silence that they were suddenly marinating in. He wished the queue would move faster.

The polite (and awkward) side of him won out, and he encouraged her to go on. "So what happened?"
"Well, she said, 'Angie, I can't just force the money out of him!'" Ah, so it was Angie. She continued talking, telling this mundane story about her friend's wine-stained shoes, and Remus couldn't help it. He zoned out again.

After an eternity of pseudo-listening and pensive head nods on Lupin's end, they were finally near the door. Remus started to mentally hype himself up, getting ready to face an even worse crowd, but then he looked up and his heart promptly forgot how to beat. He was almost certain he was looking at a Veela. She had breezed past them in line, walking straight up to the bouncer and handing him a bottle of vanilla coke. She leaned forward and they had a whispered conversation, her hand resting on his shoulder. When she tilted her head back to laugh at something he had said, her already pretty face split into the most brilliant smile the world had ever seen. Colourful clips held her dark, shoulder-length hair out of her face (which Remus was glad for), and she wore this shiny purple jacket that made her skin glow. She was ethereal, other-worldly. Remus caught himself staring.

"What a cow," said Angie. He frowned.
"Sorry?"
"She's a cow. For line cutting." Angie tossed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "Ah, well, we can't all fuck the doorman."
"That's... pleasant."
"I say it like it is, Remmy, and the only way a girl can get away with that kind of thing is if she's related to, or fucking someone."
"Maybe she just knows him."
Angie declined to answer, and as they passed through the door, Remus contemplated how much he hated being called 'Remmy.'

Just as he'd expected, he developed a headache as soon as the music hit him. It was subby and minimalistic, and terribly loud. He and Angie had to push through a sea of grinding, strobe lit bodies to get to the bar, but he was relieved when they got there. He needed a drink. Angie lifted her hand and called the bartender over. She turned to Remus with half lidded eyes and said, "So are you gonna buy me a drink, or what?" At this point, he was rather fed up with Angie, but his mother raised him to be a gentleman, so he forked over the money. Some kind of boujee cocktail for her and a Jameson on the rocks for him. She winked at him over the rim of her glass and disappeared into the crowd. Lupin deflated, slumping in his seat and sighing wearily. Of course the first girl in months to agree to go on a date with him would be using him for a night out and a free drink. It's not the worst that could've happened, though. He decided that he'd finish his drink and head home to his books.