The stench of alcohol easily whiffed through the air. Mixed into a dangerous cocktail of loud music and sweaty bodies all moving alongside the rhythmic beat of the DJ’s symphonic tune. The girl let out a scoff. Symphonic, more like ear cringing painful. To someone with… relatively sensitive hearing, it was…relative hell. Two pairs of cat like ears twitched underneath the fabric of the hood she had over them. They were voicing their own complaints to their owner. But their owner fully intended to ignore her own discomforts. Of all places her informant had to arrange their meeting place…

It had to be a place she truly detested. Revenge was the only motive she could think of why he would do such a thing. Pay back for the last time she picked their meeting place and he ended up drunk by his balls. If she recalled the night with a snicker trying to ceaseless urged its way out of her throat. Cramming it down, she settled herself at the back booth. Buying a mere simple cocktail she hadn’t touch since receiving it. All for props as they say, when being in a bar better to have a drink on hand. Well… same goes for a nightclub. Same goes for the unlikeable taste in music being blasted through her ears.

One of these days. She was going to end up deaf from one of these excursions. The girl grumbled under her breath. One hand fingering the fake id still lodged at her jean pocket while her other hand slowly massaging the growing headache brewing a top her temple. If the music doesn’t burn her sanity, the strong stench of body sweat and alcohol was bound to do the job for it. Still Leo was anything but a picky lion nowadays. If the guy said he had some info she wanted…. The thought halted just as her eyes adjusted to the flashing lights she caught a familiar scent entering the establishment. Finally. She snorted. Eyeing the crowd of bodies grinding on the dance floor until she spotted a familiar male figure slinking his way through it Dressed in a pair of right slacks which showed the figure of his bottom half, matching it with a dark grey wife beater. The man of the hour, slid his sunglasses out of his purple orbs. Jet black hair slicked back to give him a sort of posh bad boy look as he ran his sight all over. Looking for the familiar face he was trying to spot.

Their eyes met, and she set him an annoyed glare, mixed with the obvious dislike for his chosen meeting place but the man merely smirked back. His target locked on as he made his way over. “One of these days, Noel. I will kick you for trolling me with meeting areas.” She grunted out, earning another smirk out of the man as sat right on the seat on her table, positioning himself right across from her so that his body blocked her view of the dance floor.
Rackham.