The Grid is especially lively tonight. The air is thick with sweat, a chaotic cocktail of too-strong colognes, and cloyingly sweet alcoholic drinks—thanks to the less-than-stellar bartending skills of Nia, who's currently manning the bar. Xan's set wrapped up about an hour ago, and now some fresh-faced DJ is fumbling through their debut, hoping to get noticed. Unfortunately, their skills hover somewhere between "meh" and "god-awful."

Xan smirks to himself as the newbie trips over a mess of tangled wires while setting up. Poor kid. The first real gig is never easy.

A tall glass of Coke slides across the sticky bar top toward him, courtesy of Nia. Without hesitation, Xan grabs it and downs half in one go, flashing her a lazy, but appreciative thumbs-up.

"You ever gonna go home and get some sleep, angel? I can tell you didn't sleep last night, y'know..." Nia drawls, throwing a dramatic side-eye his way. Her lips pout exaggeratedly as she starts mixing a drink for one of the dozens of sweaty, glitter-drenched partygoers surrounding the bar. Her voice has to rise to a near shout just to cut through the thumping bass the newbie DJ finally managed to get going.

Before Xan can come up with some tired excuse, Nia cuts him off with practiced sass. "Don'tchu even try to lie to me, boy! I can already hear the bullshit brewin' in that pretty little head of yours! I'll ask Sav to beat your pale ass if that's what it takes to get you takin' care of yourself!"

Xan makes a face, slouching over the bar as he sips the rest of his Coke, eyes narrowing at the sticky countertop like it personally offended him. Sav wouldn't beat my ass. Not when his version of self-care is 'doin' it whenever,' which usually means he'd rather do literally anything else.

Nia's already busy with a new swarm of people demanding overpriced drinks. The music's too loud, the air too heavy, and the smell—god, the smell—is way too much.

And Xan, much as he hates to admit it, is tired. Dead tired.

What a boring-ass night.