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| Ethan D'Agostino |
As it usually was with Alana, no amount of pleading or crying or foot-stomping could let him get his own way. Shut the hell up Eath and stop being so like lame. Just come to the stupid club and god forbid you have some fun. I'll see you there at 10o'clock. Blunt, of course. Unusually for twins, that was one of their few in-jokes - blunt. It referred to the fact that Alana took so long getting ready to go out that meeting her 'sharp' anywhere was a completely pointless aim, so they'd made up the new term 'blunt' just for her and her complete punctuality blank.
Accordingly, Ethan had allowed for at least half an hour and was arriving at a tardy quarter to. He'd only ever been to a club once before, and walking in, he had to admit this was entirely different from the last place he'd been: eyes wide, he unashamedly gawked around at the half-naked oompa-loompa men and the gender-debatable dress wearing divas by the DJ box. What the hell WAS this place? Turning his head obviously to continue staring he shuffled over to the bar and ordered absent-mindedly. "Vodka and lemonade, please."
---
"Let's play a love game, play a love game love game~ ♫"
So, pretend to kiss him and make him panic. That was Alana's tried and tested plan, anyway, until she noticed her twin brother looking awkward and - Oh my god, is he like GAWKING at the angry lesbians?! - shocked. Knocking Freddie aside ignorantly, she stole through the dancing crowd and pounced on her brother from behind. She needed to stop him staring: half of those women could beat him black and blue with their little fingers.
For Frederic, being casually rude was a very basic factor in life, a born trait, intrinsic to his very being: it would feel odd were he to be completely civil. But this was obscure. People were never the same to him, returning his annoyance with idolatry. He stood in the middle of the dance floor, leaning forward, with his eyes closed, trying to piece together what had happened. Clearly she wouldn't refuse him - she couldn't have. With the impossibilities out of the way Frederick began to consider what must have happened. "Lesbian," he whispered.
He opened his eyes, only to see the space where she stood on the dance floor was now filled with a short hairy man. Frederick swerved past him, thrusting the man aside, and scanned the crowd for Alana. He saw her, as innocent as ever, standing by the bar, buying drinks for another man. A small, less attractive man than he was.
"That bitch."
He walked over, intrusive mode switched on and manly charms at the ready. He refused to be knocked back.
---
Ethan's first reaction to being pounced on by someone - significantly larger than himself - from behind was one of complete horror. Dropping his wallet, turned around, frozen in shock like a rabbit in headlights and even when he saw Alana there, the expression didn't change.
"Hey Eath! What's that your drinking?" Alana asked cheerfully, grabbing his glass and taking a mouthful inquisitively. VL? Eugh. Spitting it out all over the bar - to the staff's dismay, though they didn't dare comment - she ordered 4 shots of tequila, subtly handing over Ethan's platinum credit card from her purse once more. As he opened his mouth to protest he know instinctively that it was a futile task. "Shut up, you're lucky this thing has me to use it properly."
"... emm... Alana... I'm not sure I'm ready for tequila yet."
Out the corner of his eye, Ethan noticed a tall guy storming across, fiery and livid eyes focused on Alana. He nudged his sister cautiously, "Do you know him?" She did.
"Oh, shit. He looks pretty darned tootin' mad sis!"
As he drew closer to Alana and Ethan, Frederick realised he must have read the situation wrong: they looked similar. Relations, maybe? He rationalised this to explain her running off.. He flicked his hair from his eyes, grinning. It was the most logical explanation to him: nobody in their right mind would do that to Frederick without proper justification. As he approached the Ethan's face filled up with horror.
"Hey there" Freddie said, smile curling up his cheeks, "I notice you've managed to steal away Alana's attention from me."
He rested his arm against the bar and looked from one to the other, his shirt giving off the illusion of opening up that little farther to show his chest, without any prompting. He made a mental note: isn't it great when things just work like that? Alana, however was completely oblivious and calculating furiously in her head.
Excellent. Ethan was here, and once plied with alcohol, he would become a subject of her complex psychological plan. Phase One: abandonment in the close proximity of homosexual males.
Turning away from Ethan, and completely ignoring the reappearance of - What was his name? Ned? Ed? Something like that anyway - that guy she'd been dancing with, she gauged the perfect opportunity to implement it. "Hey Eath, I'll be right back, just need to go to the ladies!" There was an overly-cheerful triumphant tinkle of glee in her voice that she could barely contain. She walked off with a spring in her step, though she was over 6 foot tall in her heels in the first place.
Ethan watched his sister disappear into the crowd with a face suddenly pale. Turning to this Freddie, he instantly flushed scarlet in the face, avoiding eye contact awkwardly. "Emm hey. Yeah, she's like my twin sister. Sorry for disturbing you..." He quickly turned around awkwardly, nodding apoloogetically and scurried to a table where he sat staring at the 'stain-resistant' (yet very stained) table, and the shots of tequila his sister ordered. He began to consider taking one, feeling the guy's stare burning into the top of his head. Impulsively, he grabbed one and threw it down his throat, instantly recoiling and coughing. He spoke in wheezes between coughs. "What... the.... that?!... Notvodka... vile!"
Frederick watched Alana walk away. Maybe she really needed to use the bathroom, maybe the club was suddenly too much for her, or maybe she was overwhelmed with a rush of excitement from seeing his chest. Whatever the case, Frederick had been abandoned in the same club, in the same night, by the same girl - for the second time. He snarled under his breath and blinked. He was usually so chilled out; but when shock relief kicked for the second time, he had to question what he was playing at. He felt insulted, defeated almost. But not quite yet. To be turned down was to fail, and Frederick couldn't allow that. Chewing his lip, he weighed the situation: Alana would have to return to her brother sooner or later, either that or forsake him too, climbing out the back window, or something equally ridiculous. He strode over to the table her brother was situated at, assured victory would soon be his.
"So, Alana's twin," He said, pulling up a chair, "You don't look like much of a regular, are you just here for your sister?"
He added some sparkle; if he was going to be there for a while he may as well make him feel comfortable, rather than terrified.
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