Try Guys One Shots (mostly Zagene)

Stop.

Tw: Sexual Assault

Zach and Eugene had gone to a bar with the other try guys, they had a log day at the office and needed some unwinding.

As per usual, Ned was off in a corner calling Ariel, asking how Wes and Finn are.

Ned will probably be the first to leave.

Keith is over at the bar, already having 5 more friend's then when he arrived.

Anytime he goes to a bar he tries getting close to as many people as possible, this is easy for Keith, considering he's very approachable.

Eugene is right in the middle of all the action, grinding on girls and floating around the dance floor like he's been to this bar 1,000 times.

Like he knows the exact layout and limit of the place.

Zach is sitting next to Keith, but he's practically invisible. He enjoys watching Keith in his element, of course, but he would rather be at home, snuggled up with Bowie.

Zach is just watching Eugene dance. He envies how Eugene is able to move and let go so easily.

Even if Zach was coordinated and knew how to dance his back would prevent him from doing to much.

Zach snaps out of his trance when he's interrupted by Keith slinking an arm over him.

"Oh this is Zach!" Keith nods at Zach. "He's my best bud."

Zach smiles, an awkward smile, and nods at the abundance of people who are now looking at him very intently.

"Hey," he sheepishly says. Zach doesn't like attention. Well, obviously he does, being a YouTube star, but he doesn't like it the way that Keith does.

As the conversation moves from Zach once again he trie's to find Eugene in the crowd.

He's done three once overs of the whole place and still can't find him.

"Keith." Zach says, whispering to the taller man.

Keith immediately gives all of his undivided attention to Zach "Whats up?" Keith ask's, concerned. Zach seems worried.

"I can't find Eugene in the crowd. I'm gonna go and look for him outside, okay? I'll be back." Zach is fidgeting with his fingers, he looks dodgy, nervous.

"Yeah okay. I'll save your spot." Keith pats Zach's back in a, supposed to be, comforting way.

Eugene's POV

I step outside. Tonight I'm getting fire crossed. Or is it cross faded? Ah whatever.

I leave the girls who are all ogling over me, sorry ladies, I don't bat for your team, and enter the cold night air.

The breeze feels nice on my face, but I can't help but be taken aback. It's a stark contrast to the hot and sweaty atmosphere of the club.

I pull out some weed from my dress shirt pocket, the paper with it. I figured a bong was to big to bring with me so I'll stick with the slightly longer, blunt method.

I lean against the side of the bar, in the alleyway between the bar and a convenient store.

Theirs a garbage bin next to me which I lean on, hardly able to support my own weight with all the alcohol and weed running through my system.

I feel great though.

I hear the bar door open, letting the music burst through the crisp night air in a loud, startling, blast.