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Hell as usual.

Why was it that mortals needed so many bodies crammed into one room for it to be considered a social experience? I hid my glare of utter contempt well. I opted for complete indifference as I followed my coworkers, Will and Jamie to the bar.

It was mostly the after work hour crowd. Each of their unique blood scents hit me in different flavours more rich than any alcohol. Loose ties and morals as company staff flirted or offered drinks out. We slowly wove through them before securing a space at the busy bar.

Four staff flitted behind it with practiced skill and memories as orders flew at them.

Will turned back to me over the dimly lit wood and I had an answer. "Whatever you are having."

He gave me a knowing grin and saluted me with his credit card. I rolled my eyes and leant against the wall at the edge of it all. I had come to notice that whenever a mortal felt awkward or uncomfortable in a situation they would pull out their phone and scroll blankly at messages they had already read. It amused me to no end that simply standing without conversation for a second could cause their heart rate to beat faster or insecurity to flare.

I watched a blonde woman flirt desperately for the attention of a male with an expensive watch and false smile. His intentions for her obvious yet she continued with the same eagerness. I also watched what I would regard as a group of outcast, pale skinned males with thin frames and thick glasses pass around various tablets and devices between their unfinished pint glasses. I couldn't decide which type of mortal had a better existence.

My thoughts stopped as a pint of painfully sweet, Somerset bitter was presented to me with an ethanol level of 5% if my senes were accurate tonight. I looked to Will with a questioning look.

"What drink am I experimenting on?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Have a taste, see if you like it." He grinned as he took a deep gulp of his amber bitter.

I liked nothing I had to physically throw back up later. I suppressed a sigh and took a sip. I nodded to him.

"This is probably my favourite."

"Really?" He asked with the excitement of a small boy.

"No." I deadpanned. "It taste like urine with apple in it."

Jamie spat out some of his own in a loud laugh while Will deflated. A slow smile stole my face as he threw me a glare over his glass.

"Girls in this city like gin and vodka mate. Give it up." Jamie told him in his trademark thick Irish accent.

Will only rolled his eyes at him. "Listen here mate. We can't all drink that sewage water you call stout."

"Guinness is a drink of champions my friend." He chuckled, saluting his glass before securing a long gulp. Jamie was a walking definition of the Irish after all. Short cut hair on the sides save for a longer dark fringe. Tall, broad frame and light blue eyes that almost met my own save for the thin ring of gold around my irises easily missed by mortals but recognised by immortals.

"Our definition of champion is different. Take the rugby for example." Will jabbed with a knowing look. It had its effect. Jamie's Irish blood came out in full force and a sports debate was coming on. My eyes drifted away from the men and their squabble.

I took a careful sip catching and releasing the eyes of a number of mortals. Their hearts spiked on contact before I lost interest. My appearance was nothing if not striking with sharp and chiselled features and bright eyes but it was one of many weapons an immortal possessed.

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