It was just after midnight, a couple hours after the game ended, when Harper's cell phone started blasting Miranda Lambert. She cracked open one eye and glared as best as she could. It wasn't a number she had in her cell phone but the 949 area code immediately ruled out Bryan so she answered it, just in case it had to do with her grandmother.

"Hello?" Her voice came out groggy and incomprehensible.

"Harper?" a familiar voice responded, loud and full of life. There was noise in the background that made the caller shout. "Is that you? Are you there? It's Kat. Katella, from work."

"Oh." Harper felt herself relax, knowing that her grandmother was okay. She sat in bed and leaned back against the wall, stifling a yawn as best as she could. "Hi. What's up?"

"Were you sleeping?" Katella asked on the other end. "Oh my God, Harper I am so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you. I just, I'm a little drunk and I needed to talk to someone and I didn't know who else to call. I can't talk to Seraphina about it because she's the cause but, um..." She let her voice trail off and Harper couldn't help but musing that for someone who was tipsy, she didn't slur her words very much. "I guess I just needed someone. But I'll let you go. I'm sorry, I'm being selfish and totally not the twenty-seven-year old I'm supposed to be."

"No, no." Harper rubbed her face with her palm, trying to wake herself up. "It's fine. What's up?"

"Did you hear about Peters training with us?" she asked. Her voice had a slight screech to it but that was probably the alcohol. "Yeah, no one picked up his sorry ass when he was a free agent before the trade deadline and now he's going to condition with the team and try and make it with us again. That fucker. His flight came in just before the game and he had the audacity to grab a last minute ticket. Can you believe him?"

Harper had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. The situation wasn't funny, of course, but Katella seemed to be a funny albeit slightly dramatic drunk, which was incredibly amusing.

"How can I help you?" Harper asked because, really, she had no idea what to say.

"Well, um..." Katella let her voice trail off and Harper was ready to throw her phone across the room. She had always been particular about her sleep; in all honesty, she had no idea how people were able to stay up late and wake up early. Sleep was an integral part of her routine and as much as she cared about Katella, Katella was interrupting that routine. "Can you come get me? I came here with Vane but I don't want to make him leave and I definitely don't want him to know I'm leaving because I don't want to deal with Peters, you know? I would call Seraphina but I know she has an early morning and I'm sure you do too and I'm so sorry but... I just didn't know who else to call."

Harper felt her stomach clench. "You're at Taboo?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair.

There was a muffled sound, and somehow, Harper knew Katella was nodding. "Oh," she said, her words slurred. "You can't see me. Yes, I'm here. I think I want to go home. I don't think I want to do this anymore, Harper. Can you help me?"

Harper shook her head to herself, inhaling sharply as silently as she could. "As best as I can," she said. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Katella started gushing about how nice and sweet Harper was but Harper hung up, deciding she wouldn't know the difference. She forced herself out of bed and grabbed a shirt off of her desk chair - a plaid shirt that brought out the green in her eyes - and a pair of jeans from the floor. She threw on a jacket and a pair of old sneakers and instead of brushing her hair, she chose to tie it up into a messy bun instead. She left without even putting on makeup because her intention was definitely not to stay. She wanted to be back in bed as fast as she could.

The drive to Taboo was quick and easy. Since it was so late, she got there in less than ten minutes. Parking took her another five minutes but she managed to find a spot close to the entrance so she wouldn't have to worry about being a female walking around by herself in the middle of the night outside a nightclub. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't that much of a line and the bouncer must have recognized her from before because he waved her right in without making her pay a cover fee or giving her a hard time about her attire.

It was a tad more intimidating to enter a nightclub by herself but she swallowed her fear and tilted her chin up, completely ignoring the club's patrons giving her amused looks due to her attire. Perhaps she should have thrown on a dress and a cute pair of flats. It definitely would have made her feel more comfortable.

Harper decided she would head to the VIP section from before in hopes that that was where she would find Katella. When she saw the familiar head of blonde hair, a sweep of relief pushed through her body, only to be eliminated when she realized half the team was here as well.

"Shit," she muttered to herself.

"Harper!" a drunk enough Katella exclaimed, dashing over to her in high heels and somehow not toppling over due to her clear inebriation. Katella had a talent some women would kill for. "You came!"

When she reached Harper, she threw her arms around her and pulled her close. Harper could smell the strong scent of expensive alcohol permeating her breath, along with something artificially sweet. She felt completely awkward, standing next to Katella - who, besides a pair of heels, wore a mini dress and professional makeup - made her feel like an ugly duckling. Not in the sense that she lacked confidence in her looks, only that Harper felt out of place and insecure about how she appeared right now.

"Are you ready to go?" Harper asked. She hoped the edge in her voice was only something she could hear because she didn't want to come off as demanding but her exhaustion was hitting her now and she wanted nothing better than to rid herself of the clothes she wore so she could crawl back into bed for some sleep.

"Already?" Katella asked, pulling away from her and looking down at her with her big, sea-green eyes. Both she and Seraphina had green eyes, but Seraphina's resembled Christmas trees while Katella's resembled the ocean. "But you just got here. Can we stay a few more minutes? Please?" She sounded like a child, which annoyed Harper but she didn't want to deal with it.

She nodded but said nothing, causing Katella to clap and find Alexander Vane once more. Harper allowed herself to finally roll her eyes. She wasn't sure what she should do now. Waiting seemed like the most logical thing but her presence was already awkward and somewhat standoffish. She didn't want to damper the atmosphere even more than she had. She was obviously a designated driver and not someone who came to dance and party and, judging by the fact that ever other moment was a yawn, she didn't particularly want to be here.

"You look nice," a voice said. The only reason Harper even knew he was talking to her was because he placed a hand on the small of her back and when she jumped at the contact, he chuckled. "Clearly you came prepared and ready to party."

Harper turned and found Zach's sky blue eyes staring at her, his lips cocked into an amused smirk. He wore a simple white v-neck and dark blue jeans. He looked really, really good. She bit her bottom lip to keep from saying something dumb or making a noise or emphasizing the awkwardness.

"Um, yeah, hi," she said. Internally, she shook her head and felt her face heat up. She sounded like such a loon.

"So," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets and rolling his shoulders back. "I never took you for a plaid girl. It suits you."

She laughed, despite herself. "Thanks?" she asked with a grin. She looked around; a slight awkwardness touched their conversation and she crossed her arms over her chest and placed her eyes back on Zach. "So, is this your thing?"

He leaned in closer so he could hear her. "My thing?" he asked, perking a brow.

"Your scene," she explained. "Is this what you like to do? Come to clubs and drink and socialize?"

He shrugged. "Going out with the guys after a game makes for good bonding," he explained. "I don't know if I would call it my thing but I like the atmosphere. I like how laid back everyone is. I like drinking socially and meeting new people. It's nice." Harper snorted before she could stop herself and he shot her a look. "Let me guess - you're one of those girls who thinks clubs are silly and a waste of time and sexist because you have scantily dressed girls grinding on guys who want nothing more than to have sex and get free drinks?" He rolled his eyes. "It's a quid pro quo relationship. Girls get to feel attractive, guys get to feel powerful. I don't think there's" -

"You really don't think, do you?" Harper asked, tilting her head to the side.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I don't care if this is your scene," Harper said honestly. "I don't care what people do to bring them joy. It doesn't affect me so there's no reason for me to judge them. I was just trying to make conversation."

He pressed his lips together, his brow pushed up so high it crawled up to his hairline. "Oh."

"You're kind of defensive, aren't you?" she asked.

"I..." He reached up to cup the back of his neck with his palm, glancing away. "I'm just so used to people trying to tell me what I should and shouldn't do, what's right, what's wrong. No one is just happy with me as me, you know? So I apologize for taking that out on you."

Harper gave him an odd look. "There's no reason to apologize," she told him before narrowing her eyes. "You never answered my question."

"About?"

"Whether or not you liked this sort of place," she said.

His smirk grew into a full-fledged smile. "Dance with me," he said, taking her hand in his and tugging her to the dance floor.

Harper was surprised that she put up no resistance. She really must be tired.