Chris had been overworked. Or so she assumed because usually there was enough time in her life to go out for drinks, go to practices, have lunch with her friends and in general manage to have a nap. Not these past weeks, no. So far she had been busy as fuck, which, to be fair, was partially due to the really shitty game they had had last week. It had been bloody embarrassing to lose by as much as they had, especially when the other team got over 900 points. Chris did wonder what the fuck had happened, she hadn't even broken anyone's bones for a change. More practice was necessary, but not today. No, today, Chris was going to relax.
The Snitch was always a good choice since usually someone she knew was there but today the place looked oddly dead. Maybe everyone was preparing for... something? Zombie apocalypse entered Chris' mind and she decided that maybe she really should slow down on all the weed she was smoking. When your first explanation to a half empty pub was zombies, there was probably something wrong with your brain. No pun intended. Shaking her head, Chris walked up to the bar, pulling a bar stool closer so she could sit down.
"I'll have a pint of lager," she said to Lincoln. Who she recognised but wasn't particularly sure whether they had ever spoken to each other. They might've done, Chris did talk to a lot of people. "Get a drink for yourself, too," Chris added before putting enough money on the table to cover both of the drinks and then some. "Quiet night, eh?"