Roman didn’t know why he let Dean drag him out tonight. He really wasn’t in the mood to leave the house and he had homework waiting to be done, not to mention, football practice the next day.
But no. He had let his best friend, who he was pretty sure was off his rocker, convince him to go out to a club that Dean wasn’t even allowed to go to (Roman was though, being 18 while Dean was 17). ‘I got the hook up, Ro!’ Dean had assured him, fishing into his pocket and pulling out a plastic card, a fake ID. Roman only rolled his eyes and went along for the ride. 'Midterms are coming up and you need to relax~’ Dean had said. 'C'mon! Just until 1, I promise, I’ll take you home.’
It was about 12 now. '7 hours until school starts…’ Roman stood at a bar, watching with some amusement as Dean twitched and shimmed his way onto the dance floor. Roman still couldn’t believe his fake ID worked. What was this, the 1990s? His grey eyes scanned the bar, seeing patrons take shot after shot or some sip cutely on their pretty, fruity drinks. Roman wanted some (because why not? When in Rome), but damn the law.
He sighed, looking away, eyes immediately catching sight of something familiar. His stormy irises narrowed, both in an attempt to see better and annoyance, because if it what his gut was telling him was right, then the person holding his attention was none other than Randy fuckin’ Orton.
Roman’s skin instantly flamed at the thought. Randy Orton was his ultimate rival. Both on the football team and in grades. He pissed Roman off to no degree because he had always got the best of him. Whether it be through winning the Captain’s position, scoring one point higher on a test, or getting the girl that was holding his affections at the time. He could never believe how he could just lose so easily to someone like Orton. It was like… fucking magic or something.
Roman scowled and looked away, head down, long hair shielding his face, hoping Randy didn’t see him. Randy never left his mind though. What the hell was he doing here? They all had school tomorrow… Roman rubbed at his temples. He could really use a drink right now.