She took a seat on her favorite comfortably-worn leather bench in the far corner. She appreciated the simple practicality of this seat; the extra light buzzing lightly from the neon blue butterbeer sign helped to illuminate her scrolls. The angle allowed her to watch those who entered the pub, while retaining a direct line of sight with the lead singer up on stage. She was far enough away where she could allow herself to become distracted, yet close enough where nobody could accuse her of being unsupportive.