Chapter Text
Joey didn’t really know what he was doing here. Maybe he was just trying to prove a point to himself. Maybe he just wanted to torture himself more with the idea that you’d moved on so easily while he was still stuck at home pouring over your old messages. Either way he found himself parking his car along the street, carelessly crossing it to reach the front doors of the club the two of you used to frequent.
He ambled over to the bar and ordered a whiskey sour, running a hand through his unwashed hair as he took a seat at the end and let his eyes scan through the writhing mass of bodies that covered the dance floor. How’d I ever even do this shit before? He wondered to himself. This place sucks.
And yet still he felt a pang of sadness as the bass thumped through his body, remembering the nights you spent here together, dancing and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. He’d never been one for clubs but somehow you’d changed his mind, always able to perfectly sense the exact moment he wanted to go back home.
Joey sighed and gulped down his drink, feeling the warmth spread through his body as he entered the crowd. He moved his body to the beat with all the enthusiasm of a corpse, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd for any sign of you. Every girl who ground her body against his and yelled drunken flirtations at him just made him sick to his stomach, wearing down his will to find you even more.
He shoved his way through the crowd, finally breaking out to a less crowded area near a flight of stairs that led up to the owners’ offices. There were a few people passed out on the higher stairs, but he was able to spot an empty place to sit near the middle. From his new vantage point he could see more of the club than before, though there was still no sign of you. He checked his phone, vowing to give it ten more minutes before he called it quits and went home.
As one song faded into the next he was struck by the opening chords to one of your favorites, an upbeat pop song with a beat you’d always loved to dance with him to. His chest tightened as he remembered one of his favorite nights with you, when thunderstorms had rolled in and you’d decided to have a date night inside. The two of you made dinner together, practicing Duel Monsters with dessert. When he’d started doing the dishes you’d pulled out your portable speaker, drawing him away from the sink to dance with you in the kitchen. Even now he swore it was the happiest he’d ever been, and one stupid mistake had brought it all to a screeching halt.
Joey could feel heat spreading across his cheeks and tears prickling in his eyes, his heart thumping a lovesick rhythm in his chest. He tried to plan a quick escape from the club, but as his eyes searched for the familiar red glow of an exit sign he finally spotted you.
You were sitting alone at the bar in your favorite outfit, sipping on a drink he couldn’t see. The seat next to you was empty, but it was clear that you were waiting for someone to return to it. Joey leaned forward against the railing to get a better view, his stomach churning as he waited to see who you’d come with.
It seemed as if the crowd had parted for someone, reforming as soon as they passed through. The person stopped at the edge of the dance floor, checking their phone then looking up at the bar. When they turned Joey caught a look at their face, and it felt as if someone had just stabbed him in the chest.
None other than Seto Kaiba himself was taking a seat next to you, sharply dressed in a button-down shirt and tight pants that probably cost more than a year of Joey’s rent. You leaned your head against Kaiba’s arm, tapping your glass against the one that had just been set down in front of him. The two of you exchanged a few words, then you smiled at him and leaned over to kiss him.
Joey didn’t know what to do. All he could do was sit on the stair in shock, watching as you excitedly pulled Kaiba out to the dancefloor. He felt like he had even less of an idea of why he’d come here in the first place, but he guessed it leaned more toward torture than anything else. Part of him wished he was brave enough to do something about it, but he guessed that everyone had always been right about him; he was nothing more than a coward, a dog running away with its tail tucked between its legs. If he hadn’t learned it back then he’d surely learned it now: no matter what, he was no match for Seto Kaiba.