Richie Tozier / Bill Weasley
Bill hadn't had a great time of it either, after stumbling through a door alone he'd spent uncountable time being pursued by something which felt suspiciously like a dementor but despite conjuring a patronus it had only managed to keep it back and not drive it away. He was drained, all that time alone in the dark had left him with nothing but fear, fear for what was happening back home. The newspaper article hidden away confirmed it wasn't good and one of his brothers was dead. Usually he could just continue on like he didn't belong there, like things probably weren't continuing on without him. But not in the dark, god knows where.
So maybe he was a little dull around the edges, a little pale maybe, a little sharp in the corner of his eyes where he was usually soft. So drinking by himself seemed like The Answer, until the music maybe drew him out, because wallowing wasn't actually his style.
"Drink?" He offered as he sidled up beside Richie, already pouring two shots of firewhiskey into the shot glasses he'd produced from nowhere. He looked like he could use one and Bill was a giver.