[center][h3][color=black][u]Niles[/u][/color][/h3]

[hr][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dz24DgBUQbc][color=black]"Well they think I've been messing with the wrong stuff; Nah, I've been messing with the right shit. Yeah, I fuckin' like it."[/color][/url][hr]


[h3][b][u]11:10 P.M.[/u][/b][/h3]


There was something about the atmosphere that was immediately nauseating, and it wasn't the lingering smell of booze and sweat or the way that body heat coated the dance floor in a thin cloud of warmth, like an aggravating sauna. Niles didn't quite know what it was that made these clubs so...off putting because it was a collection of [i]things[/i]. The thumping music. The fact that some people took 'Thirsty Thursday' to mean something other than drink specials at the bar. The barely twenty one year olds making their first in a four year long list of mistakes. There wasn't much to love about these night clubs...and yet Niles couldn't keep away; he wasn't a nightly visitor by any means...but his presence at clubs like this had not gone unnoticed by those who were willing to look a little harder. Places like this, where the music drowned out the awkward flirting and the overpriced alcohol, weren't exactly his scene. Sure, there were benefits to be had, but the ratio of people Niles would be into was smaller than the ratio of people here that would be into Niles. 

[color=f7976a]"Mister Carter,"[/color] the bartender, Louis, slid a napkin in front of Niles as the brown haired actor pushed his way from the overcrowded dance floor towards the bar itself. [color=f7976a]"Bottle or glass tonight?"[/color] 

[color=black] "Bottle. Definitely."[/color] Niles had to speak over the music, it was a wonder he didn't go hoarse with how often he had to do something as simple as that. This is why people just went to regular bars, they didn't have to shout over annoying music or deal with sweaty, half-cognizant people, half of which would wake up in some stranger's house for a forgotten walk of shame. 

Louis set a green bottle in front of Niles with a smile that only widened after Niles slid a twenty across the counter. The beer was five. The tip was another five. The discretion from Louis was a ten. Louis had made the mistake on Niles' first night at this particular establishment of speaking like a fan would, wide eyed and freaking out. Normally, Niles didn't mind if someone came up to shake his hand or a quick photo for whatever social media was their poison, but there was a time and a place for that. A club filled with people just waiting to be the next top story on TMZ because they have a risque scandal with someone on television was not the place. When he walked through those doors there was no Niles Blake. He was Mike Carter, a seemingly average name for someone that wanted to pass as close to average as possible.

Niles, beer in hand, leaned back against the counter, eyes scanning the floor, looking for nothing in particular but watchful all the same.


[h3][b][u]11:20 P.M.[/u][/b][/h3] 

[color=tomato]"I'm sorry...I don't normally do something like that."[/color] The same line Niles had heard countless times and one he simply got in the habit of nodding his head along to. Both parties know it's a way to save face, but Niles at least had the good sense to not backpedal. No one ever wanted to be adults about it, always quick to make up an excuse as if that would make Niles think any more or less of them. 

It's hard to buy the story anyway, given that in most cases it was never Niles that made the first move. 

He had been nursing his drink, shaking his head at some of the more...well...thirsty dances going on on the floor when a tap on his shoulder snapped his attention to his right. Even in the dim lighting Niles could see the blush on the guy's face. College kid, no doubt, unkempt blonde hair, young face but not in the babyface sense of the word, and nerves hidden behind awkward laughter. [color=tomato] "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you...but I have to know...are you...Niles Blake? From [i]Willow City Beat[/i]?"[/color]

[color=black] "I could be, but who's asking?"[/color] Niles spoke back, keeping it as casual and close to the chest as he could in the situation. 

[color=tomato] "It's just...I'm a fan and you look just like him. And...And I..And-"[/color]

Niles silenced the fan by placing his own index finger against the guy's lips, shushing him as one does. The rest was simple. A whisper of admission to the identity. Another whisper of sweet nothings. Soon enough it's a retreat to a back room, a dark corner, or a stall; lips come together and the sound of a nameless affair drown out the still throbbing bass. 

[color=tomato] "I'm sorry...I don't normally do something like this..."[/color] 

Why did they always say sorry? As if the experience was bad or that they had hurt Niles in some way. It didn't matter much anyway, as Niles barely responded as he took a moment to check his hair in the mirror. He was the first to leave the comfort of the bathroom, no worse for wear and thirsty enough to order another drink. 

"[color=dodgerblue]NILES BLAKE![/color]" came a voice loud enough for Niles to hear. Another fan, perhaps, or...

Niles turned his head towards the bar just in time to see Louis motion with his eyes right towards him. Niles was shaking his head towards the bartender, what the hell was the point of the discretionary fee if he was just going to tell some random nobody...and then Niles' eyes trailed over the curious arrival. 

[color=black] "What the...hell are you doing here?"[/color] Niles shouted towards the kid at the bar. No, not a kid. Not anymore. But as he spotted Zac Harper, all grown up, he could still only see the teary eyed childhood friend staring back at him.[/center]