Ever heard the saying that ‘sometimes you wanna go where everyone knows your name’? Well Corby Allen Gent was freaking tired of everyone knowing his name. It was always ‘OMG THREE OWL STANDARD’ this and ‘3OS’ that. Ugh. And Corby wasn’t even one that got his panties in a wad about the attention. Hell, he was a wrock star, he loved the ladies, but sometimes it was nice to get a different change of pace.

That’s why he liked to occasionally frequent muggle clubs in London. True, he couldn’t take the ladies home, but most of the time they had homes, and the ones that were married… well… that’s what hotels were for… right?

Though the drinks were a bit weaker and an eye might widen at the mention of a flaming centaur, Corby was still quite a fan of his current haunt. Though the crowd was pretty diverse, he was particularly happy with the simplicity of it all. The focus was on the music, thankfully music that lacked his own particular brand of bass, and not so much on the flashiness of it all.

Corby had been sitting at the bar for about thirty minutes, shooting down one shot of whiskey after another, striking up conversations with the patrons around him, asking about their favorite quidditch teams and when they gave him a stupid look, Corby just went on to the next person… maybe this wasn’t his kind of place after all…

That’s when he saw him.

Usually Corby didn’t go after men, but... this one he knew. He had already mistaken one member of Nolia and the Knockturnals… he wasn’t about to make the same mistake a second time. Sitting not four seats down from him was none other than Iggy Prewett. For a man, damn… he was sexy. Corby picked up his shot glass and moved over swiftly, moving in closely. “Hey there, know who I am?” He asked in his gruff, manliest voice. 

A change of scenery was always nice, something different from the usual wizard bars and clubs Iggy usually spent his evenings at.  They also didn't recognize the smell of gillyweed.  He did miss the fire whiskey though.  There was just something lacking with plain old muggle whiskey.  At least he'd remembered to get enough muggle money this time.  No chance of running out before he was sufficiently drunk, or before he'd found a muggle to take home who would be too busy to realize his flat had too many rooms.

And if they did, well that'd just be crazy and they'd either ignore it or find a rational mundane explanation for it.  Got to love muggles ability to do that. Iggy had just ordered another drink from the way too handsome for a shirt bartender when a man appeared next to him, and of all things asked if Iggy knew him.  He glanced at the man, and started to answer that he had no idea before he recognized him.

What was Corby Gent doing at a muggle club?  Well Iggy was at one, why not another wizard.  "Yeah," he said as he gave the bartender a smile when he poured another shot for Iggy.  "Surprised to see you here, Corby.  Didn't expect to see any wizards here, let alone a famous one," he said with a laugh.

Famous… it was such a descriptive, and oftentimes inaccurate, word. Yes – in some circles Corby was known as famous, but it wasn’t something that Corby liked to linger on… at least not around friends. If he was bringing a chick back to his pad, then hell yeah he’d play the famous card, he’d be the most famous person that the woman would ever meet. Then he’d show her just why he was so famous, and the only instrument used sure as hell wouldn’t have strings. Because that’s how the bassist did it – no strings attached.

Corby followed his drink mate’s gaze and noticed the bartender. A man that Corby would never go after himself, but if that’s what Iggy was into… well more power to him. He drained his shot and put the glass upon the edge of the bar, signaling for the bartender to pour him another. “I could say the same about you. I’m muggleborn, Prewitt. These are my stomping grounds,” A small pout appeared on his lips when he realized that Iggy was barely paying any attention to him, but it didn’t really matter, not on a large scale anyway.

“Lemme buy you a drink,” He said, not even bothering to look and see the state of the man’s current beverage. He carried the air of one that always got what he wanted, because… in all honesty, who would deny the likes of the sexy Corby Gent?

"Your stomping grounds?" Iggy said absently still distracted by the bartender who was hardly paying him any attention beyond filling his glass.  Oh well, it had been a long shot.  Wrong type of bar for that.  Wait, muggleborn had nothing to do with hanging around muggle bars.  He finally looked at the other wizard sitting awfully close to him as Corby offered to buy the next drink.  And Iggy never turned down a free drink. 

"Sure."  He said tossing back what was left of his drink.  "These aren't your stomping grounds.  Who cares that you are a muggleborn.  You're a wizard,"  Iggy said, dropping his voice a little near the end.  Not that it mattered with the music and the general drunkenness of the muggles around them.  "Hogwarts does a good job of integrating muggleborns into the magical world.  The Ministry has even created a new office to help the process." 

Just because he'd been bitten and had his job offer at the muggle liaison office rescinded hadn't meant he didn't keep up with what was going on with the line that separated the muggle and wizard worlds.  Nor had it dampened his interest in all things muggle. "Though I guess the office is a little late to help you.  But really we should both be back in Diagon, dodging school girls now old enough to get in the bars."

Corby certainly wasn’t expecting the political rant that issued forth from Iggy, and the shock of it made the bassist’s eyes widen and a small blush to creep up his cheeks. He knew that most celebrities had a ‘cause’, either saving the rainforest or adopting muggle babies or what have you, but that was mainly for publicity… people didn’t actually care about those things… did they? He let out a nervous chuckle as his drinking mate turned up his drink and then waved for the good-looking shirt to bring Iggy another.

“Hell, who needs Diagon for that? I get more action from the chicks in this place than from any joint in Diagon,” He said, brushing off the boy’s lecture. “Plus, you can’t really see what a babe looks like in all those heavy robes. I’m a man that appreciates the human figure… and you can appreciate it much better here,” He gave the drummer a wink and gazed up and down his form before standing from the bar.

“But if you wanna go to Diagon, c’mon. We can have a couple more drinks, and if you’re too tired to head home, you can crash at my pad,” So what if it was a subtle come-on? It was all in good fun – and what was the purpose of going out for drinks if one couldn’t have a spot of fun?   

Okay, bar not a good place to discuss Ministry business.  Iggy knew that, the drinks had made him forget but the look on Corby's face and the nervous laugh barely audible over the noise reminded him.  "Sorry," he said with a shrug.  "But no reason to head to Diagon now.  Besides,"  He pulled out a wad of muggle money, "I got all this money for tonight and I really hate dealing with Goblins when it comes to muggle money." 

The bartender appeared again and Iggy pushed the cash to him.  "Keep the drinks coming for both of us till that runs out."  He wasn't actually sure how much he'd handed over, muggle money still mystified him, he he didn't really want to have to guess at the value of what was left at the end of the night.  Better to spend it all, even if it meant he was buying the drinks now.

He handed a drink to the other musician, taking a moment to return the the look Corby had given his form, "We can head to your place when the money runs out."