Credit : archive of our own
Summary : Louis doesn't care that he gets stood up by his blind. There's too much flowing through him at once.
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The club is loud. Beats flowing from the mixing station and vibrating through the 6ft speakers; onto the dance floor where sweaty bodies grind and writhe together.
Louis Tomlinson sits at the bar, nursing a Diet Coke, because he's Designated Driver, while he waits for his supposed date. I should've never come, Zayn is gonna get his ass kicked, he thinks as he looks around the bar for the person he was set up with. He's never been one for parties or clubs but Zayn had dragged his sorry ass out of bed and into the newest club to open in London. Zayn had also managed to create an online dating profile for him and had set up a date, which Louis hadn't found out about until Zayn had arrived at his doorstep, demanding him to change into his 'Booty Pants'.
Half an hour of waiting turns into an hour and an hour into two. It's obvious Louis' been stood up and he needs a self-esteem boost in the shape of a Absolut Vodka bottle. He thinks, 'Fuck it, if Zayn's too drunk to drive they'll bloody walk.' He orders a round of shots and then the whole bottle. The bartender shoots him a sympathetic look as he pours the shots but Louis doesn't notice. He turns in his swivel chair, losing his balance momentarily, but quickly regains it, searching the crowd for Zayn. Blonde, blonde, brunette, blonde, black quiff-WAIT!
"ZAYN! Za- woah--" He falls off his chair in his hurried attempt to catch Zayn's attention. There's a slight gasp that radiates through the people around him and then they go back to what they were doing. Louis groans, and pushes himself up on his hands as Zayn's white high-tops come into his line of vision. He looks up and sees Zayn's amused smirk looking down at him.
"Shut up you douche," Louis whines as he stands himself back up, "It's your fault I'm drinking."
"Oh is it now? Tell me, how is it my fault?" Zayn replies, smirk still etched onto his face.
"You set me up with a pretentious douchebag that didn't even show up!"
"Ah Lou, sorry 'bout that, look; we'll find someone here that you can take home okay?"
"Hmm, fine. But only if he's really cute."
"How about that one?" No. "That one?" No way. "Him?" He had bright green hair.
"Do you even know me?"
"Okay look, as much as I love looking for guys you could have the chance of fucking tonight, you're being picky."
"Fine, I'll go find an ass I can sink my teeth into by myself," He hops -almost falls face first- off of his chair and staggers out into the crowd. He ends up by the front entrance, although he's not really sure how he made it from the bar over to the wall he's currently leaning on. From where he's standing he can see the whole room, all the couples dancing together, people at the bar drinking away their troubles. There's two buffed up guys standing by the door wearing all black except from the red lanyards that hang around their necks reading 'SECURITY'. He looks back over to the bar only to find Zayn whispering into the ear of a fluorescent-pink haired girl. Well at least he's getting laid tonight. The club starts to become too stuffy so Louis shuffles outside, sending a quick albeit drunken text to Zayn wishing him luck with the girl and to go back to her apartment tonight. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, cursing himself for having such tight jeans, and fumbles with the car keys.
