Apparently, tiger morphs are very perceptive, and will go out of their way to help when a patron randomly drops to the floor. A master of sidestepping her trauma, Catra played it off as if she had slipped on the spill on the floor. The bartender was none the wiser about it, or about his missing ID card. She wasn't quite sure why she had swiped it - her hand had brushed against him while he helped her up, and one thing led to another. At least she would have a reason to meet him later.

I was, brought up as a southern bell, I, grew into the queen of hell,
You were, just a little stowaway, that stabbed their way to save themself

So, the dressing rooms. She swallowed a quick wave of nausea, but pushed through it. It was her own mind now, damn it. She didn't need to think about it. She put the card away, and made a show of pulling out the ribbon in case anyone was watching. With nothing better to do, she clumsily put it on. Not a few people were wearing collars around here, a bowtie was not going to stand out.

In hindsight, she hated it. Now, the dressing rooms.

It was the kind of place they would hang out at. Famous people to imitate, manipulate, trick, or have fun with. Plenty of jewelery and expensive outfits. And access to off-limit parts of the bar, for a quick escape. Wading through the crowd, she arrived at the doors with the yellow "Staff Only" sign. The tall bouncer next to it gave her a semi-interested lookover. He probably wouldn't mind her hanging around, but sneaking in would be a lot harder. Nevertheless, she approached, trying to look as confident as she could in a cocktail dress.

First one up was a preacher's son, last one down was an englishman, I'm at the back with their bow tie on, all dressed up for a hit and run!

"Hi! A friend of mine works here, can I go greet them?" she shouted over the music.

"Not unless they ask for you!" he grunted back. Of course not. He didn't seem bright enough to be talked into it. And a bribe . . . would be hard. She glanced around, looking for another way in. How did they manage to get in?

With a sigh, she went back into the crowd. Too many bodies, too close to each other. She didn't like it. Some random idiot was thrashing around like crazy, bumping her a couple times without even noticing. Glancing around to make sure everything was in place, she snatched the nearest cup and emptied it over his head before dashing back into the crowd.

"Aaargh! Yo what the fuck man?"

"Ey, no, that was, that was the-" The attempt at an explanation was interrupted by a dull thud, almost lost to the beat of the music. By now, Catra was far away from the scene not to be seen, but was still picking up on the shouts and insults. She carefully navigated the crowd as she felt it part to let the hulking security through. Making sure he was preoccupied with the brawl, she snuck back to the door. The closed and locked door. Absent-mindedly, her hand went into her gracious cleavage and pulled out a black ID card, swiping it across the nearby terminal and surprising herself with an inaudible click and a green lamp. Gracefully, she opened the door and slid inside just as the playful song finished.