Billy continues to hold court as the night progresses, several rounds of drink in but still managing to hold his own. The only real difference in his person from the start of the night is the very faint smell of weed that emits from underneath his expensive cologne every so often. He has intermittently popped out for "smoke breaks" throughout the night. While many others can't handle the effects of becoming "cross-faded", Billy appears relatively unfazed. He keeps Amelle close with one arm slung around her while conversing with Jack. The drunken Riley left to use the bathroom but that was some time ago. "Look, you and Ri are big into your charity work. That's what Spurs are doing right now. Letting you lot know what it feels like to be somewhat near the top ten." Billy continues a teasing conversation in regards to their respective teams' standing within the Premier League. He snickers and takes a sip of his Jack and Coke before screwing up his eyes and shaking his head. "Fam, should we send a search party out for this big cunt? Where's he off to?"

Unbeknownst to Billy, Riley is stood about 15 feet away, gingerly covering himself by a half wall that blocks off the private section. He has been stood there for some time, trying to catch Jack's attention and subtly flag him over. Finally finding his moment and meeting Jack's line of sight, he tilts his head as a way of telling him to shift his arse over towards him. Ri might have left to go to the bathroom in a sorry state but he's looking particularly alert and sober now.

"It is what it is, mate. As long as Chelsea keep fucking losing, I'll still be sleeping well." Billy smirks and lets out a little snicker as he goes in for another drink. Despite the reigning Arsenal being his biggest rival on paper, he sadistically enjoys Oscar's team losing all of their most recent matches. Contrary to reports and Billy's sharp tongue, the pair are still friends but the London rivalry within the confines of the band is too tempting to resist. The boot is always stuck in whenever and wherever is seen fit. "Yeah, go see if you can find him, bruv. If he's finally getting his end away don't interfere. Just take a pic of the drunken monstrosity for us to have a laugh at and hold over him as blackmail later." Billy cackles and finishes his drink, turning his face to Amelle as Jack leaves the booth. "And how you doing, gorgeous? Holding up alright?" Billy gives her a little squeeze and soft kiss on the cheek. Although outwardly still as brash as ever, his gentler side has been coming out more subtly throughout the night, checking in on Amelle every so often and consciously holding her closer as drinks pile up and guards may fall down. Despite having hired security a stone throw away, he still feels the natural urge to guard and protect her in this busy London club full of drunkards.

"Just a second, lad." Riley takes Jack's arm and ushers him away slightly, hoping that Billy hasn't clocked him yet. "Eh, we might have a bit of a problem." The drunken slur in Riley's voice from earlier is suddenly gone, now miraculously appearing as the most sober of the group. It's as if he has been startled into sobriety. "On my way to the loo, I clocked that Blake Williams near the bar. Long bastard story. Gist is if Billy catches sight of him or vice versa, this night is going to end up in ruins, lad. Can't be arsed with it and don't want Our B in trouble." While all the gory details of the past may not be known to Jack, it's still common knowledge that Blake has a rocky history with members of the band and Billy isn't above bottling someone especially if under the influence. "Want to try subtly coax them to wrap up here and move on to somewhere else or even the hotel? Bit of a cloak and dagger operation, like."

"Wh-where's the rest of Mystery Inc?" A very loud, obnoxious and heavily intoxicated Floridian voice cuts through the chaos of the night like nails down a chalkboard. Riley rolls his eyes and turns to see Blake standing behind him looking like a sorry state. His half unbuttoned garish silk has various wet patches upon it, his once slicked back hair is falling down in random strands and the sway he has going on could rival that of the giant inflatables outside car showrooms.

"Blake." Riley doesn't even give the guy eye contact, instead focusing on a spot on the ceiling so not to engage with him any more than he has to. Ri is without a doubt one of the warmest, most peaceful people on the planet but it's evident that even he has no time for this guy.

"Y-you you should get out while you can, bro." Blake inches towards Jack a little, to which Riley holds an arm out to stop him getting too near. "These guys?!" Blake points to Riley, almost spilling the drink in his hand in the process. "They know h-how to bury a body. All I'm gonna say."

"Mate, we're just trying to have a nice time, me and the lad. No need for trouble here. You get back to enjoying your night." Riley walks forward a little in an attempt to make Blake retreat backwards but it proves futile.

"Nah, I'm gon-gonna stay right here!" Blake furrows his brows and places a hand on Riley's chest to try stand his ground. It's quickly batted away with stern force and a serious look on Riley's face that serves as a warning. It takes a lot to ruffle Riley's feathers so it only demonstrates just how unwanted Blake's presence truly is.

Blake immediately goes down like a sack of spuds upon impact. He's someone who is all mouth at the best of times let alone while this heavily intoxicated. Even if he had attempted to throw the first punch, it was never going to work in Blake's favour regardless. He hits the deck and, thankfully, nobody pays much attention to the scene due to the hectic nature of the club and most people already tuning out the annoying American drunkard. From the way he was pacing about earlier, it's obvious that Ri and Jack weren't the first people he was approaching and irritating tonight.

"Nice one, lad. Appreciate that." Riley gives Jack a pat on the shoulder and follows suit. He's not the type to condone violence but Blake is an exception to the rule and he's grateful that it was Jack who put a stop to things. Had it been a member of Weekend who had struck him, Blake would've milked it for all eternity and only serve to push his very strange agenda forward.

Back in the booth, Billy smirks gleefully - the weed and alcohol seemingly having a calming effect on him. It's a far cry from what's happening not 20 feet away from him out of his line of sight. "I know, I know but you shouldn't have to deal with them. Drunk London boys are animals..." Billy says with a knowing wink as he coquettishly refers to himself, inching in closer and placing his lips softly upon hers. Even with all the innuendo and euphemisms dropped throughout the night, there's been a tenderness to Billy tonight. He's not treating this like one of Jadyn's pool parties. This is a wonderful night just full of closeness and affection.

"Hi folks. Sorry about that!" Riley pipes up, doing a very convincing job of sounding spritely and jovial despite what just happened less than 30 seconds ago.

"Fucking hell, bruv! Where you get to? Let me smell your fingers..." Billy cackles before shifting a little in his seat. "Seriously, fuck happened to you?"

"Got stuck in the bastard cubicle! Lock jammed!" Riley laughs, conjuring up a scenario as quickly as he can and one that doesn't require too much background info.

"Stupid prick." Billy chuckles, reaching for his empty glass. "Same again?"

"Actually, B, was thinking we should move on. Getting crowded in here and there's more of London for Jack and Amelle to see." Thankfully Riley's claim of the club becoming overly crowded couldn't be refuted. As the night continued, more bodies bounced in to let loose on a Saturday night.

Billy shrugs and looks back and forth between Amelle and Jack. "Don't mind, fam. Anything in particular you want to see...besides Riley's knackers again?"

Riley, now a lot more sober, feels his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as the flashbacks attack him. "Aye, sorry about that, folks..."

"Oi! What you saying, bruv?!" Billy jokes after Amelle's quip, purposely turning up the Cockney accent to an 11 and sounding pretty much like his younger brother Deneil in the process. He stands to his feet and lets out a short and sharp whistle, beckoning his head of security over. "Eddie, see to it that we've got the car ready, yeah? Gonna be moving on from here." Billy slips into his jacket and proceeds to follow the remain security personnel as the group make their way out of the club.

Moving in a pack while surrounded by trained security eases Riley's mind a little should Blake crop back up again but he'd still prefer the nuisance remained at bay. He moves with haste, determined to be out of the venue within the next 30 seconds. Noticing how quiet Jack has gone, he gives him a reassuring pat on the back and speaks lowly to avoid Billy or Amelle overhearing. "You're alright, lad. You're alright." Regardless of whether or not Jack regrets it or is worried about repercussions, Riley knows it was the best possible outcome. It shut it down quickly. Had Jack not put him in his place, it would've only been a matter of seconds before Blake got physical regardless.

Stepping outside, Billy blurts out a comically large "FUCKIN' 'ELL!" as they're greeted by torrential rain bouncing off of the pavement with violent force. Thankfully, they're protected by a canopy and the fresh night air provides a cooling relief after being in such a warm club for hours. Stepping out into the downpour would be far from pleasant, however. As they await for the car to come around, Billy huddles everyone closely together against the elements. "Fam, you all alright if we all just head back to the hotel room? Make our own fun and shit? This fucking weather, bruv..."

"Aye, alright with me, lad." Riley tries his best to remain and sound nonchalant but can't help briefly looking over his shoulder to make sure an angry Florida Man doesn't come charging out of the club behind them.

"Yeah, can't say you're seeing it at its finest." Billy grimaces, looking up at the blackened night sky that's raining down mercilessly on the poor souls below. "Still, there's plenty to keep you interested in London. Me, of course..."

"Don't forget The BT Tower as well, like!" Riley jokingly pipes up, nodding towards the glow of the looming structure in the distance to which he's met with a swift middle finger from Billy.

"What's Leeds got to offer? The big Tesco? Leave it out, Hamilton!" Billy chuckles before braving it and stepping out from under the canopy into the lashing rain as their car pulls up. As the group are guided to the car by security, a handful of paps sporting Glitterazzi branded shirts seemingly leap from the shadows and start snapping away - their cameras firing off blinding flashes in quick succession. Security hold them at bay but unfortunately can't silence the squawking of the vultures.

"RILEY, OVER HERE!", "JACK, THIS WAY!", "YOU HAD A NICE NIGHT?", "WHERE YOU GOING?", "BILLY!", "BILLY, ARE YOU AND AMELLE OFFICIAL?!". All the typical sleazy, brown-nosing noise falling from their slack jaws.

Riley remains as gracious as possible while being simultaneously blinded and soaked by torrential rain, giving them a small smile and swift wave of acknowledgement before getting into the back of the car. Billy, on the other hand, is less enthralled by their presence and interference. He retorts back to the guy who asked about his relationship with Amelle. "Where's your girlfriend, mate? Shouldn't you be focusing on her?" Billy leans over the frame of the open car door.

"I don't have one, Billy." The photographer still snaps away, seedily acting as if he's on first name terms with the stars and living out a parasocial relationship.

"Figured. Was giving you the benefit of the doubt you fat fucking cunt!" Billy snipes before climbing into the car last, security closing and securing the door behind him. "Fucking prick, bruv." Billy hisses under his breath as he pulls at his seatbelt and clips it in. He inhales and looks over at Amelle, realising he's probably not coming across as his most charming right now. "Sorry, babe." Billy gives a small smile, impressively nipping his temper in the bud.

Riley bites down on his lip, stifling his laughter. While he finds the wording a little strong, Billy's lack of filter and zero tolerance for bullshit will always both tickle and inspire him. When Jack jokingly asks which board game they should play, Riley's thankful for the change in subject. "Oh, I wouldn't mind a bit of Operation. You brought it with you, B?" Riley asks with a laugh.

"Sadly not, bruv. We could make our own version though. Get naked and prep each other. You all down for that?" Billy looks around the car for a response. It's difficult to tell whether or not he's joking when he says these things. Anything flies with this man. "No?"

Riley just chuckles and shakes his head, looking out of the rain-soaked window and into the London nightlife. It may very well be the wrong side of midnight but the city is still as alive as ever. "I'm sorry about that, Jack...Amelle. 15 years on and they're still a bloody nuisance." Riley apologises for the paparazzi's behaviour, staring out of the window and feeling a pang of guilt for his friends having to endure that circus. While Jack is a rising star in his own right and Amelle is no stranger to rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, he knows that a whiff of not one but two Weekend members out and about in Soho together is probably the tipoff that whipped the paps up into a frenzy.

After the frenzy of the paparazzi and the Blake encounter, the group finally make it back to the hotel safely. The night time drive through London allowed for some much needed respite and an opportunity for them all to just feel like regular civilians. Being in the heart of one of the world's busiest cities while remaining anonymous and undisturbed is a rarity for the boys these days. Simply looking out of the window and people watching, taking in the iconic sights and having a laugh among friends somehow provided even more joy than the high end club did, especially for Riley.

Once back at the hotel, Billy insists on paying his security team into nearby rooms instead of just his head bodyguard Eddie. It may come across as drunken flashness on the surface but the secret softer side of Billy wants to treat those in his employment to a night of luxury and well earned rest. It also doesn't hurt to have trained security personnel dotted around the place either. It may be a swanky place with elite clientele but even patrons and employees of such fine establishments have a tendency to act uncharacteristically from time to time, especially if there's a whiff of a party of famous faces together on the premises.

Billy slides the key card into the door, revealing the spectacular suite he booked for the night. While the colour scheme is the typical neutral whites, creams and greys of most hotels, it's the intricacies and details as well as the sheer size of the place that reaffirms this is 5 star, A-List living. The floor to ceiling windows immediately opposite from them as they enter the room boasts a spectacular view of the city at night time. The vista itself is like a game of 'Spot the Landmarks' - Tower Bridge and The Shard taking centre stage. "Right, I'm needing a smoke." Billy rubs his hands and immediately makes a beeline for the balcony, strutting through the impressive space with a swag as grand as the room itself.

Underneath the enormous flatscreen lays a more than generous hamper basket which Riley saunters towards. All these years in showbusiness and these excessive gifts still tickle him. "Rhubarb preserve, anyone?". Riley picks the glass jar out of the hamper and furrows his brows. Why anyone would need this for a one-night stay regardless of star power he'll never know. "Bloody wild night out." Riley exhales as he sits down on the plush sofa, taking his shoes off with great relief after such a long night.

Remnants of the cold night air swish gently into the room as Billy peers in from the patio door, unlit joint hanging out the side of his mouth. "'Bout to get even wilder, fam. Hotel room. Three guys. One girl. We'll put that rhubarb jam to good use." Billy gives Amelle a playful wink before chuckling and turning away from the room to light up. The rain is still battering down unforgivingly but a lipped roof above provides Billy with enough coverage to enjoy his puffing.

"Eh...I was talking about the wild weather, lad!" Riley calls over his shoulder with a chuckle, resting his arm across the back of the couch and sinking into it.

"Boring cunt! Who talks about the weather?!" Billy pipes up from outside. He enjoys a long drag before teetering back towards the doorframe again. "Jack, mate." Billy tilts his head, beckoning Jack to come over and join him out on the balcony.

"Ey, if you're wanting some bikkies I think there's some clotted cream rounds from Fortnum & Mason in there!" Riley gives a nod towards the ridiculously ostentatious hamper and lets out a little laugh. While he's grateful and proud of how far he has come, after all these years he still can't quite get his head around the system of giving freebies to the rich and nothing for those in need.

"Y'know for all the slagging off I'm doing, I ain't mad at the idea of having some with a brew." He turns over to Amelle as she removes her make-up. "Welcome to the rock star life, love!" He chuckles and stands back on his feet. "You wanting a cuppa or you and B keeping the party going?" Riley knows fine well that Billy's going to be raiding that mini bar the second he comes back in from the balcony. When Amelle jokes about getting things started, Riley pretends to be aghast, dropping his jaw and clutching his chest. "Me?! I'm a bloody Saint, love. Don't let a rogue bollock tell you otherwise!" He chuckles and makes his way to the kitchen area of the large open plan space.

"Jacky Boy!!" Billy exclaims, joint impressively still held between his lips as his voice echoes out over London. "Come here, come here. Want to show you some important spots from up here." Billy places an arm around Jack, pulling him close. Exhaling his smoke, he then gestures out into the distance almost using the joint as a pointer. He lowers his voice. "Right. Those two are gonna think I'm showing you points of interest in the city. What's really happening is you're telling me what actually happened in that bar. Why you were holding your hand and looking all sullen. Why Ri lied about being stuck in the bog and wanted out of there. I love Ri. He's a great guy...and also a shit liar because he never does it."

Billy takes another draw and subtly offers it over to Jack in case he finds that it helps relax and take the edge off of an intense situation. "I'm not gonna freak out, bruv. Having a chill night. Surrounded by good mates, my girl, smoking the best shit Jadyn Ghalen put me on. I'm good. For future reference, however, I wanna know if anybody gave you any shit or made you leave." Billy lets go of Jack's shoulder and turns to look him square in the eye. "Nobody does that and gets away with it. Not on my watch. Not to my mates and certainly not in my fucking city." Billy remains calm and certainly isn't being aggressive towards Jack but with the glint in his eye and sincerity of his tone it's evident he doesn't want to be fobbed off and needs to hear the truth.

In a rare self aware moment, he realises that the combination of drink, drugs and standing on the top floor balcony with Billy Khan of all people could be perceived as a little intimidating. He lets out a small laugh and smiles, taking a step back from Jack so not to come across as intense. "Look, I just wanna make sure everything's alright and handled before I hear it through the grapevine, yeah?"