König had said he'd be here. That he was with his team. That he wanted her to meet them.

Y/n doesn't see the massive man yet. But the bar is packed, and he's a hard man to miss. SHe weaves through the crowd, feeling eyes catch on her—the curve of her hips, the way she moves. She reaches the bar and leans against it, tossing a glance over her shoulder to scan the room again.

Nothing.

So she does what any reasonable person would do. She orders a drink.

Across the booth, Gaz notices. He nudges Ghost, who looks up from his drink with a quiet, unreadable stare. Soap's already moving in, all charm and teeth.