Megan is more than happy to introduce him to whatever friends and acquaintances pop up here, with an air of "look what I found! everyone adopt him immediately!", although clearly nobody expects anybody else to remember anyone's name. Once, she has to haul him halfway across the club to avoid someone she knows from work -- "so rich, but soooo boooooring," she offers by way of explanation -- which probably isn't going to work out for too long given that she's this tiny sparkly pink disco ball with wings and this is not actually that huge a club.

The glitter that was previously contained to her hair and upper arms is slowly spreading everywhere in her immediate vicinity like a creeping infestation of bad decisions and Goldschläger. (Which she drinks a lot if, although it goes by another name in the city.) "Hey," she shouts eventually, with more than a tinge of drunken slur to her words, "you wanna go to Royal Jewels?" He can probably guess that that's the drag club previously brought up.