Rebounding
Who: Lex Luthor, Kitty Kowalski
Where: The Ante, a trendy nightclub in Metropolis
What: Forgetting
As nightclubs went, this one didn't make Lex want to burn it down and salt the earth, which elevated it onto the lofty list of "Places Lex Luthor Can Stand to Be While Still Partially Sober". That didn't mean the flashing strobe lights and the neon dance floor weren't slowly starting to grind his nerves. That, and every single person who'd thrown themselves at him since he'd entered the club (apparently, he was still recognizable even under a blacklight) had been rejected without a second thought. He was beginning to think Clark had put some kind of alien curse on him.
"This is the worst techno music I've ever heard," Lex said, taking a long sip of whatever was in front of him.
"All techno is shit, Lex, that's why you have to be drunk at these places." Two-face was making his way through the bar with abandon, ordering based on which bottles looked the most colorful and acidic.
Lex was about to respond in defense of techno, mostly to pick a fight, when he happened to hear a familiar, forced laugh. He whirled around in his seat, scanning the club. She'd be on someone's arm, probably--there.
"Two-face," Lex said, reaching into his wallet. "Here's six hundred dollars. Take someone pretty to a hotel room."
Where: The Ante, a trendy nightclub in Metropolis
What: Forgetting
As nightclubs went, this one didn't make Lex want to burn it down and salt the earth, which elevated it onto the lofty list of "Places Lex Luthor Can Stand to Be While Still Partially Sober". That didn't mean the flashing strobe lights and the neon dance floor weren't slowly starting to grind his nerves. That, and every single person who'd thrown themselves at him since he'd entered the club (apparently, he was still recognizable even under a blacklight) had been rejected without a second thought. He was beginning to think Clark had put some kind of alien curse on him.
"This is the worst techno music I've ever heard," Lex said, taking a long sip of whatever was in front of him.
"All techno is shit, Lex, that's why you have to be drunk at these places." Two-face was making his way through the bar with abandon, ordering based on which bottles looked the most colorful and acidic.
Lex was about to respond in defense of techno, mostly to pick a fight, when he happened to hear a familiar, forced laugh. He whirled around in his seat, scanning the club. She'd be on someone's arm, probably--there.
"Two-face," Lex said, reaching into his wallet. "Here's six hundred dollars. Take someone pretty to a hotel room."