There were two reasons for a nightclub to have a long line: either it was worth the wait, for one reason or another, or it was new enough that people didn't yet know that it wasn't worth the wait. The verdict was still out on Club Nightland. Xaedrin stood outside the line, watching for a likely target to help him inside. He had worked quite hard to avoid having a reputation or a big name in the lower levels of Coruscant, primarily concerned in the past with surviving. However, having amassed a decent amount of personal wealth through his various thieving enterprises, he knew it was time to start branching out into new endeavors. Plus, credits afforded a bit of luxury. As a relative unknown, however, he'd not warranted an invite into the exclusive club. He did look the part, however, wearing an expensive, stylishly-cut dark blue suit. Underneath was a simple white shirt with the top several buttons undone to lend a casual air. He wore shoes to match the price of the ensemble, having learned the hard way long ago that cheap shoes were a give-away even on men.
Xaedrin had two reasons for wanting in the club tonight: curiosity and thirst. The former drove him to sate the latter in this particular locale. It wasn't a terribly good reason to take a risk of this nature - after all, curiosity killed the ... well ... what died changed depending on what planet you happened to be on, but he hoped it wouldn't be the young street-thief this time. A stylish speeder pulled up next to the line, a finely dressed man with an air of arrogance emerging from inside with a scantily clad woman on his arm. Xaedrin smiled to himself as he moved toward the pair. The man was giving instructions to his driver, and so didn't notice Xaedrin before bumping into him. With a muttered 'excuse me' Xaedrin continued past him, ignoring the insults hurled his direction. His lips curved upward in a smile as he walked to the entrance of the club.
Reaching into his jacket, Xaedrin expertly produced the small, duraplast card that he'd palmed from the wealthy couple at the speeder moments ago. The card was a special invitation to the evening's event. Xaedrin hoped the individual wasn't important enough to be recognizable on sight, but figured he wasn't due to the lack of security. Proffering the card between index and middle finger to the street-tough at the door, he adopted a relaxed half smile. "Evening," he said nonchalantly. Xaedrin wasn't the most skilled Force user - in fact, he was virtually untrained. But one thing he was good at was subtle, mental nudges. Gently, he pressed on the tough's mind - everything's fine, there's no problem here. Not all beings were susceptible to mental pressure through the Force, but so long as this one wasn't Force sensitive he shouldn't notice Xaedrin's light touch either way.
His calm exterior belied the tension he felt, but he'd grown adept at covering that up.
[member="Xiann Syndulla"]