Blaine had been through a rough month. In the time since meeting his doppleganger, the formerly-believed-to-be-unshakable retired fighter, had been shaken and rendered barely able to leave the house. But enough was enough. He had to do something. He refused to be holed up in Lee's apartment forever. Besides...she wasn't home, and he was out of alcohol.

So, he was dressed in a blue denim jacket that was open to show his white, too-tight for its own good muscle shirt, with a pair of jeans and his black boots. He'd started to head to the store to get beer, but instead, walked into a bar he hadn't been to before. Well, it was more of a club, but it had a bar, and there wouldn't be anyone he knew there.

But he needed to get out; he had to get his life back.

And to do that, he was going to drink. Some weird dancey-music was blaring in the background, and he made his way to the bar. "Rum and coke. Keep em comin," he said, taking a sip of his drink as his eyes darted around the room. He felt like he was being watched, like the other guy was going to burst through the crowd.

He stared into his drink, taking a sip. Oh yeah...that hit the spot. Maybe that would help take the edge off.

This music had Ved dancing oh-so-closely to a couple girls he’d met on a walk this morning. Thankfully it wasn’t bump and grind. Man, that got old real fast. He liked this ‘cause it was all hips and soft bends at the ankles, knees, elbows, and shoulders. It was like stripping – which he assumed he’d be good at – and who didn’t want to be Magic Mike? Oh what a cover identity that would be!

The girls had to leave for the bathroom and he wasn’t about to dance alone. Besides, he wanted another drinks. The bar was looking a bit busy, but more than a little space had been granted a peculiarity: a dude in black boots and a jean jacket. That was most definitely not the attire for the Sunset Sands.

“Captain and coke, lime please,” Ved ordered from one of the bar tenders. He smiled sweetly at the girl and then side-eyed the guy beside him. Long hair didn’t care. Rough and tumble. Tall, strong, trained. Scarred but no piercings. Interesting. Ved was dressed in light denim and a billowy white button down, a few buttons open to the air and wandering hands. He was always amazed when someone undid a few buttons on the dance floor like no one had ever done that before, but hey he enjoyed it.

“Man, ya alright?” came the hint of a southern drawl from the 6’2” club-goer. “Misses kick ya out or is it the dog?”