By Pup Shaggy
He didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. Seriously. The night had originally been a meet up at a pub. Simple, enjoyable; and it didn’t involve stupidly loud music and obnoxious flashing lights at whatever club happened to be on their minds. A pub was something he could enjoy. But of course, plans changed and out of the blue, instead it was going to be a night at a club. Not just any club either. For some reason, they were heading to a gay club even though none of his friends were gay, just hum. It made no sense. But then from the sounds of it, they were all already drunk when he turned up.
He had a feeling his mates were hinting at something as well, but honestly he felt more like a third wheel than anything. He had been looking forward to this night back when the plan was a few drinks and chatting at a pub; A chance to chill. But now? He wasn’t sure if he was anymore. He wasn’t the club sort of guy. He didn’t dance, not because he couldn’t: anyone can dance when they’ve had enough alcohol. He just didn’t particularly find it fun. Anytime he had danced in the past it was to keep everyone else happy; friends who were throwing him annoyed looks because he wasn’t partaking in the strange ritual others called dancing… because he didn’t want to in the first place.
Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it though, and every time they came over to ask him if he was alright: sure. He lied through his teeth and said yes. But mostly he just wanted to get the hell home.
