"There are no facts, only interpretations."

- Friedrich Nietzsche


All she was trying to do was go to the bathroom. She just had to go pee really quick, and then she would be back to take a flaming shot with Cece, as she had promised. But of course, as fate would have it, Anzu's drunkenly thought out plan would not work out.

She was making her way back from the restroom to Kent's booth, sipping on a vodka lemonade as she pleasantly danced through the crowd. The alcohol had settled warmly in her veins, making her feel daring. She had even danced with Kent's friend Matt a few times, and had not bothered to stop him when his hands had boldly slid from her hips to her ass. Anzu began to strategize how she would convince Matt to dance with her again when someone so rudely stepped into her path.

With a yelp, Anzu's shoulder dug painfully into the chest of the offender, causing her to stumble backwards. Her drink sloshed all over her hand as she teetered precariously on her heels.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, switching her glass to her dry hand to shake off the other one. "I spilled my drink."

Anzu peered into her significantly lighter glass, examining what was left of the alcoholic concoction. There was at least a drink left. So, with a shrug, she downed the rest. She'd just get herself another drink when she got back to the booth.

Wait a minute! the dancer thought, turning to face the tall figure that had obstructed her path. She let out an irritated huff. This person should buy me a drink! They made me spill it, anyways.

The music blared in her ears as she stepped forward, holding out here drink. "Hey," she shouted, wiggling the glassware. "I think you owe me a drink."

The offender groaned, sliding a hand over their face in frustration. "Mazaki."

Anzu squinted suspiciously at the tall man, swiping her hand through the air in a futile attempt to get rid of the dry ice obscuring her vision. He knew her last name. How did he know her last name? Through flashes of blue and purple light, she could decipher bits and pieces of his features. Brown hair, cobalt eyes, a stylish grey suit that made him stick out like a sore thumb in a sea of sequins and jeans… Each piece seemed familiar to her, but her fuzzy mind struggled to piece together the puzzle.

Finally, everything seemed to click.

A grin split across Anzu's face. "Holy shit, Kaiba!" She rushed forward, placing a hand on his upper arm in a friendly gesture. If she had been sober, she would have noticed how her former classmate stiffened under her touch, alarmed at her sudden movement. But Anzu was satisfyingly drunk, and she zeroed in on the rosy hue settled high on his cheeks, visible even through the perpetually flashing lights.

"Are you drunk, too?" she asked shrilly, yanking sharply on his arm, causing him to stoop. A part of her mind tittered in warning as she examined Kaiba's eyes. They were awfully close. He was probably angry already. She couldn't bring herself to care, as she had noticed that his eyes were definitely a bit glazed over and out of focus. He had definitely been drinking.

"Do you mind?" Kaiba snapped, shaking himself free of the now pouting Anzu. He straightened his tie as he glared across the crowd. "It seems you get even more annoying when you drink. Typical."

"Normally I would take offense to that, but luckily for you, I'm in a very good mood tonight." Anzu drawled, gesturing with her empty glass. Kaiba sidestepped to avoid getting walloped by the exaggerated movement. With a gasp, Anzu gripped his arm again. "I'm so sorry! I almost hit you!"

She immediately withdrew her hand, once again, when she saw Kaiba grind his teeth together. "Right, sorry, no touching. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing, you sound like a broken record."

"Sorry."

Anzu slapped a hand over her mouth, preventing another "sorry" from slipping from her lips.

With an aggravated sigh, Kaiba brought his wrist up to glance at his watch. Anzu couldn't stop a giggle from passing through her fingers as he squinted at the face of the watch.

"Either you need to see an optometrist or someone has the spins." Anzu observed with a smirk, pulling her hand away from her mouth to rest on her hip. Kaiba shot her a withering scowl.

"I have neither the time nor the patience for your pointless banter." he seethed, digging in his pocket and withdrawing a phone. He strode forward, pushing past Anzu.

"Hey, wait a second, what about my drink?" she cried, latching onto his arm. She didn't care if it was the third time she had touched Seto Kaiba without permission, but she was going to get that drink from him whether he liked it or not. He was the one who made her spill it, after all.

"I'm so glad that you're still here, Kaiba. And with a friend, too!"

Kaiba had stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Anzu to nearly collide into his back. She peeked around his broad shoulders to see an unfamiliar man with two beautiful and scantily clad women draped on his arms. She noticed how shiny his oiled hair looked in the flashing club lights, swallowing the bubble of laughter that worked its way up her throat.

"Corsetti." Kaiba grumbled, delivering the man a curt nod. "I was just making my way out."

Corsetti? Anzu thought to herself. Isn't that the man Kent was talking about earlier? The one who owns the club?

She furrowed her brow as her hazy mind struggled to connect the dots. She vaguely remembered Kent mentioning that Corsetti was the connection that his father wanted him to maintain. Judging by Kent's choice of apparel that night, and the supposed club owner in front of her, Anzu concluded that Corsetti was just a stereotypical party-boy entrepreneur.

But why would Kaiba and Corsetti know each other?

Corsetti slipped his arms from the two women by his side and stepped forward, clapping Kaiba on the shoulder. Anzu glanced at Kaiba's face, expecting his robotic façade from the charity ball to be plastered across his features. However, much to her delight, she watched his lips twist into an annoyed frown.

"Are you sure I can't persuade you to stick around for a few more drinks?" Corsetti asked, his voice drawling over the thumping music. His eyes slid from Kaiba's narrowed ones to settle on Anzu, who had stepped out from behind her former classmate. A wolfish grin bloomed over Corsetti's face as he moved forward to take her hand. "Surely your lady friend doesn't want to go home quite yet."

Anzu's amusement finally overflowed into laughter at Corsetti's remark, catching his crude undertone. "Oh, no, I'm not leaving with him!" she exclaimed between chortles, slipping her hand from his to jab her thumb at Kaiba, who shot her an affronted glare. She ignored the look as she continued to giggle. Her? Go home with Kaiba? That was absurd.

Corsetti quirked an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between the two before him. He waved his hand at the women at his sides, and they gratefully melted into the crowd, looking bored from the interaction.

"Sounds like a challenge. Eh, Kaiba?" Corsetti quipped with a smirk, his hand reaching into his coat pocket. "You know, I have something that can help you with that." He began to withdraw an item, but stopped short as to only show a peek. Anzu squinted through the flashing lights, catching sight of what looked like the top of a pill bottle.

A pill bottle…? How would that help anything? thought Anzu, her face screwing into a quizzical expression, looking back to Kaiba for any clues.

She watched in fascination as a spark ignited in Kaiba's eyes. He gnashed his teeth together as he abruptly took Anzu's upper arm into a firm grip. "That won't be necessary." He snapped, hauling her away from Corsetti and into the crowd, Corsetti's confused shouts swallowed by the music.

Kaiba looked absolutely furious.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Anzu exclaimed as Kaiba roughly deposited her onto a barstool. He slipped between her stool and the dancing girl next to her, bracing himself against the bar.

"I'm getting you that damn drink," he responded between clenched teeth.

Anzu blinked. She studied Kaiba's face as he glared at the busy bartender, wondering why he all of a sudden found it so important to replace the drink he had so rudely caused her to spill. It must have been something Corsetti had done, she surmised, observing in amusement as Kaiba began to tap his index fingers against the bar impatiently.

"So what was that in Corsetti's pocket?" Anzu asked, propping her elbow against the bar. "Was it aspirin? Because, you know, I'm sure you don't get drunk that often."

A muscle jumped in Kaiba's jaw as he shot her a scathing look from the corner of his eye. "Drop it, Mazaki."

A bartender approached them, nodding in Kaiba's direction. "What'll it be?"

"Your best scotch, on the rocks, and whatever she wants." Kaiba answered, gesturing towards Anzu. She glanced at him as he diverted his gaze towards the sea of dancers. Was he avoiding her stare?

"Ma'am?"

Anzu's attention snapped back to the bartender, who was leveling her with an impatient stare. "Oh, uh… I'll just do a shot of Fireball." The bartender nodded and turned to grab a shot glass from the lines of shelves behind him when a mischievous idea popped into Anzu's head. "Wait, make that two shots of Fireball!" she exclaimed, slapping her hand on the table. Kaiba started at the sharp sound that cut through the music.

She grinned at him, sliding her nearly forgotten glass away from her. "You like whiskey, right?"

Kaiba frowned. "If you expect me to take a shot with you, you are sorely mistaken."

"Oh, come on, Kaiba!" she pleaded, nudging his arm with her elbow. "It's a Friday night, and you've already been drinking. What's the harm in one shot?"

The businessman set his jaw and once again averted his gaze. Anzu knew he didn't exactly enjoy her company, but she had to admit that she loved to see him squirm. At the same time, she was confused as to why he didn't just abandon her at the bar and be on his merry way. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that impaired his judgment. The Kaiba she knew in Domino wouldn't give her current antics the time of day.

I wonder how far I can go with this, she thought to herself idly as she watched the bartender pour two shots. If anything, I could get a funny picture to send to the guys back home. They'll never believe it!

Kaiba slid a crisp $50 across the bar and snatched his scotch. Anzu could tell he was about to make a break for it, so she grabbed his arm.

"Not so fast, hotshot!" she trilled, a broad grin spreading across her face. "You have a shot to take!"

Whirling around, Kaiba suddenly slammed his scotch back on the bar. The force of the gesture caused alcohol to slosh over the rim and onto Anzu's still outstretched arm. She opened her mouth to complain, only to have the words die in her throat. Kaiba had trapped her, hovering just over her with his hands fisted against the bar on either side of her. She could feel his breath ghost across her face as she peered up into his icy, narrowed eyes.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," he hissed, his seething voice slicing through the thumping bass, "but it's not going to work. I've purchased your stupid drink, and I owe you nothing more. I am a very busy man, and the last thing I would like to do in this godforsaken city is babysit the prima ballerina of Mutou's glorified cheer squad. Got it?"

Anzu blinked owlishly, startled by his sudden outburst. His face remained mere inches from hers, despite the end of his declaration. Strangely, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched and the way his chest heaved with anger beneath an undoubtedly expensive silk oxford sent a small thrill through her heart. A bizarre urge to teasingly loosen his immaculately knotted tie washed over her.

Interesting, she mused.

Instead of grasping Kaiba's tie, Anzu's fingers fumbled for one of the full shot glasses behind her and proffered it just below his nose. "I'm not asking to be babysat, Kaiba. Just humor me and take the shot, and maybe I'll be out of your hair."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'm not laughing."

Kaiba stared at her hard, and after what felt like an eternity, he let out a deep sigh and snatched the shot glass from her hand. Anzu grinned and clinked her own against his.

"To friendship!" she crowed, enjoying the grimace crossing Kaiba's features.

"No, thanks." he muttered, tossing back the shot. Anzu quickly followed.

The liquor slid easily down her throat, the cinnamon rising up through her nose. Setting the shot glass back on the bar, Anzu fixed her gaze on Kaiba. "So I suppose you wouldn't be interested in joining me and my friends for the rest of the night?" she offered. "Kent Warrick is here. I know you have connections with his father, or something like that. What do you say?"

"Not likely." Kaiba sneered, taking a dignified sip of his scotch.

Anzu sighed. It didn't seem like Kaiba was going to give in. "I'm not trying to annoy you," she reassured, propping her elbow against the bar. "It's just sort of nice to see someone from home, you know? I mean it's so hard to see anyone with the distance and how busy everyone is. Especially Yugi with his dueling career. It seems like he never takes a break. It's almost as if he's still trying to escape the shadow of-!"

Anzu snapped her mouth shut. She had almost said his name.

She noticed that her sudden halt in speech had grabbed Kaiba's attention, as he fixed her with a piercing stare. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and Anzu was convinced that it was not due to the alcohol. "Huh, I lost my train of thought! Maybe I should slow down on the drinks." She finished with a lame laugh.

It was at this point that Anzu had wished she had ordered a cocktail rather than a shot, as she had nothing to busy her hands with to avoid Kaiba's gaze. She tried to focus on her hands that were clasped together on the bar, but it was proving to be difficult due to her intoxicated state. How foolish of her, letting her liquor-loosened tongue make a mistake she hadn't made in a very long time.

"The Pharaoh."

Anzu flinched at Kaiba's curt response, mentally cursing. She felt ridiculous that the sore subject of the Pharaoh still elicited such a response. She thought she had made peace with the conflicting feelings inside of her, but reluctance kept her from completely disposing the matter from her heart. She stole a glance of Kaiba from the corner of her eye as he took another sip from his drink. He kept his gaze trained on her, but Anzu couldn't decipher the expression on his face.

"It's not as if I have time for them to visit anyways," she plowed on, eager to leave conversation of the ancient spirit in the past. "Dance saps all my time anyways. I'm lucky that I have this evening off. Usually I'm in the studio on Friday nights making sure I'm on top of the other girls. My time at the apprenticeship is nearing its end and I need to make sure my spot in the troupe isn't taken out from beneath me."

A scoff escaped Kaiba's lips. "I'm surprised that the spokesman of friendship herself feels the need to fend off hostile ballerinas."

She shot him a glare. "I'm not always friendship and sunshine, you know," she snapped, wiggling her fingers towards Kaiba. "I'm not as predictable as you think."

Kaiba raised a brow, swirling his scotch absently. "Is that so?"

Anzu raised her chin. "Yeah."

Giving her a scornful look, Kaiba scoffed again. "Please, don't flatter yourself. You're as predictable as they come." Anzu let out a sound of protest, but the young businessman pressed on. "You've already made it to New York. You'll end up growing tired of the competition in your troupe and return to Domino, probably settling on marrying Yugi and accepting your inevitable role as supporting cast for the rest of your life."

"Su-supporting cast?!" Anzu howled, her face flushing angrily. "You don't think I have what it takes to make it?"

"You've spent your entire life in the shadows of your so-called friends, so why should I believe that you can survive, especially when they don't have the time to support you?"

Anzu's jaw worked wordlessly. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins as her anger built. She hated the way Kaiba stared at her with those stupid blue eyes, acting like he had her all figured out. Well, he doesn't, she raged silently, resisting the urge to smack away the glass of undoubtedly expensive scotch that was poised at his smirking lips. Predictable, hah! I'll show him predictable.

Suddenly, as he took another dignified swig, Anzu remembered their earlier run-in with Corsetti.

The pounding club music seemed to fade away to the hammering of her heartbeat in her own ears. Anzu dove her hand into her purse and pulled out a fistful of cash, slapping it on the bar. "Another Fireball, please," she called. The shot of alcohol would steel her resolve. She knew what she was about to do may end very poorly, but it would prove a point to Kaiba.

The bartender slid a shot glass brimming with the amber liquid from before to her. Here goes nothing, she thought as she tossed the shot down her throat. Then, with newfound liquid courage, she slid off her barstool, fisted his oxford in her hands, and brought Kaiba's lips down to meet her own.