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Stiles wiggled a bit to adjust the fit of his skinny jeans and winced slightly. There was a fine line between paint and pants and he was pretty sure that line had frowned at him in disapproval two sizes back. He popped a few breath mints and resisted the urge to run nervous hands through his hair lest he ruin all of Lydia's hard work. Stiles took a deep breath, sent up a prayer, and stepped into line at Howl, the most underground of underground nightclubs that Beacon Hills had to offer.
Not that Beacon Hills had any other underground nightclubs but still, Stiles was there, ready to unleash his inner beast and walk on the wild side.