There were two major differences in James appearance at this place tonight and Fisher's appearance. The first was that James was in fact drinking to get smashed. Actually, he had been drinking to get smashed ever since his last class had ended. He had already had nearly an entire bottle of Patron on his own before leaving his dorm and though he still wasn't quite wasted, or at least wasn't walking like he was just yet, he certainly wasn't anywhere near sober.
The second difference was that James wore Etro from head to toe. His ensemble looked like something straight off of the runways and his coat alone cost more than $1300 and anyone that didn't like it or had something to say about it could go fuck themselves. He may even be inclined to provide the lube if they so desired. Wealth did not automatically preclude one from hardship. Any ignorant bastard that thought otherwise simply wasn't worth James' time. End of story.
He entered the bar with a bit of a clatter, a girl that was quite a bit more intoxicated than he was on one arm and a cigarette dangling between two fingers of the hand of the other. He'd met her in the last bar he had gone to, the one that they had been asked to leave. Already he had forgotten her name, her age, her race, her face. She was of no real interest to him but when you screamed of money, you were bound to pick up a straggler or two. Once they were inside, he had intended upon ditching her, and it just so happened that Fisher, unfortunately, would be his excuse for doing so.
Having strolled halfway into the bar, the girl beside him having stumbled there along with him, his eyes fell upon the familiar figure who, in his mind, owed him one. "Oh look! It's my good buddy, Fisher!" He announced, his arm tugged quite forcefully from the viper's grip to gesture in the boy's general direction. "I've got to catch up with him, love, so how about you be a doll and go find someone else to subject to your constant simpering?" Okay, so that was perhaps not the most tactful way of putting things but that was neither here nor there right now.
Without invitation, the girl left behind him looking floored that she was ditched for such a person as Fisher, then shooting a few angry glares in his direction before she wandered off, James sauntered on over to the table and had himself a seat, unbuttoning his coat as he sat down, his feet propping themselves up in another chair that remained unoccupied. "Fucking hot in here, huh?" He asked, and then leaned up to push his coat back down off of his shoulders.
"Hey bartender! We need another glass over here and a bottle of whatever it is my good friend here has been nursing tonight." He shot a charming smile in Fisher's direction as he tossed a c-note down on the table to cover the tab. "Chat with any interesting dead people lately?" He asked, as serious as could be, and then he busted out laughing like that was the funniest, most clever thing he had ever heard.