❝All of my life, it's been heartbreak weather
Thinking to myself it won't get better
It can be so lonely in this city
But it feels different when you're with me❞
***
Where Béatrice Lange meets Niall Horan at a club and brings the sunshine back into...
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The club isn't as crowded as it usually is on a Friday night, but there is still a decent amount of people here. Celina made sure to point out the group of guys that were sitting at the bar and the different groups sitting at tables and booths. We walked past a group of boys sitting at a table congregated around a phone that was playing a football game. My guess is that their girlfriends wanted to go out and they wanted to stay in and watch the game, so they compromised. In all honesty, I don't really understand how watching grown men kick around a ball was entertaining enough to be shouting at a screen as if their commentary would change things. But I guess that's because neither of my parents was into sports and, growing up, I preferred the arts over athletics. I never really understood what made sports so interesting.
Celina pulled me over to the bar and ordered a round of shots, which we shared, and then she wandered off to flirt with some of the guys we had seen. I considered going over there too, but I needed a bit more alcohol in my system.
The music was almost too loud, and that's saying a lot from someone who always has their headphones at full volume. The DJ or whoever was in charge of the music tonight wasn't even playing the good songs. It was still decently early, they probably didn't want to have played all the good songs when there was hardly anyone here. Though, I'd prefer they played the same songs over and over than whatever they were playing right now.
I ordered myself another shot and downed it, grimacing at the burn in my throat. I leaned against the bar, not bothering to sit down, and I looked around the club for Celina.
"Hey there." A voice says, causing me to turn to look at the person it belonged to. They had an accent I hadn't heard in quite a while. I was used to always hearing British accents, with the exception of Celina's American accent. But Irish? That wasn't one I heard every day.
"Hi," I respond, shifting to lean on my left arm so I could face him. His blue eyes immediately darted to meet my brown ones, a smile plastered across his face. I think I recognize the man sitting in front of me, but not dare to ask him to confirm.
"Haven't seen you 'ere before." He says, taking a drink of his beer.
I tilt my head to the side and smirk, "That's funny because I'm here practically every weekend."
"That is funny." He says, getting up from his stool and moving to the one closest to where I was standing, leaving his friends behind him. "So am I."
"You sure about that?" I quip, "You'd think I would've seen you here before."
"Oi, you caught me." He says, holding his arms up in a playful defeat.
I smile at him. "So you lied?" I tease.
"Might have fibbed a little." He laughs.
"Well, how do you know that I'm not the one 'fibbing'?" I smirk.
"I don't, I guess," he laughs, "but I don't deem you as a fibber."
I let out a loud laugh, "Why do you keep using that word?"
