Chapter Text
Somehow, after fifty tabs of WikiHow guides explaining how to pick people up in bars, articles detailing every single alcoholic drink in existence, and even the building code for commercial bars, Zoey Raghavan still had no idea how a bar worked. Not in a how does it operate sense, but a how does a bar become more than a place to drink alcohol for people, allowing all kinds of personalities to interact in a shared space? way.
It made sense, though. Zoey had never been to a bar, being scared off by the reputation they tended to have. Being under the influence of something that could affect her cognitive behaviour wasn’t really something her anxiety was keen upon.
How am I going to top Love-to-GoGo?
Her previous webcomic had achieved decent success, enough to allow her to quit her previous job at a design firm to pursue her dream full-time. Lost in thought, she absentmindedly flicked her stylus between her fingers. The problem was that she kept wanting more. Because no matter what she did, it seemed to never be enough. The pressure from her fans eagerly awaiting her next project pushed her to reach further. The moon was no longer enough - she wanted to touch the stars. She dreamed of becoming bigger, spreading her wings through the art world with her comics, touching the hearts of millions across the globe.
She had to do better than L2G2: its success wasn’t enough for Zoey.
So, she opened tab fifty-one, typing in Hand Jumper while groaning in frustration. If she was in an anime, she was sure her ears would be steaming from her lack of progress. It had gotten to the point where she pulled up a webcomic she liked, referencing it for her own webcomic, just because it had a bar scene.
Remember, setting is one of the most important things in a story!
The many plot-writing videos she’d watched started bouncing around in her mind. Somehow, they said something about creating an atmosphere in every single one.
Suddenly, she sat up, instantly fixing the shrimp posture she didn’t notice she’d fallen into. A bad habit she’d yet to kick.
Zoey quickly opened Google Maps, saw that the bus would be arriving in five minutes, and leapt into action. A quick glance at the window told her to dress warmly, so she changed into a hoodie (taking care to pick one that didn’t utterly expose her anime interests) and sweatpants, before throwing on a puffy jacket, grabbing her keys, and leaving the apartment. She immediately facepalmed, realizing she had forgotten her tablet, and had to go back inside to grab it. Luckily, the bus stop was a short distance from her place, and she was spared from having to chase the bus. Because it was late. Of course it was late. She grimaced, thinking about how bad of an idea this was, but she was fully committed.
I guess we’re facing our fears today. Just the once.
Zoey quickly thanked the driver before getting off her bus and approached the establishment in question with hesitant footsteps. A brief glance at her phone screen informed her that it was 15:37. Surely no one else would be here to see her gawk at the building in front of her, right?
It was by no means a shoddy structure, but the only thing that informed her she was in the right place was a neon pink triangle sign. Definitely eye-catching, nonetheless. The greenery surrounding the place made for a cozy vibe, even if it stood in stark contrast to the sign.
Shit, it’s cold… wait, what time does this place even open at?
Zoey had wanted to come to the Triangle Bar at a time when it was most peaceful, but didn’t think about when the damn place opened. Typical of you to forget something that important. It looked closed. Was it closed? Hopefully it was closed. If she left now, she could say to herself that at least she tried to go out. Maybe I can get out of this after all-
“Hey,” a voice said, coming from behind her. Zoey immediately jumped and let out such a sudden yelp that this new person flinched. “What are you doing staring at my bar?”
Fuck. As she turned to face the person, she scanned them up and down, looking for any sign of a potential threat in them.
“Uhh.. I- um, I was w-wondering…” Wait, did she hear them right? My bar? Shit, she was not getting out of this.
The stranger tilted their head, indicating for her to continue. “Wondering what?”
In a dangerous situation, it is a natural survival instinct for a creature to engage in combat with a threat, or flee from it, hence the term “fight-or-flight response”. And in a creature with anxiety, a perceived threat can come in the form of certain, impending doom one might experience when being hunted as prey by a creature twice one’s own size, or in the form of a normal social interaction with a concerned bar owner who was lowkey kind of attractive. However, Nature had evolved more than just two possible courses of action a creature could take to a potential threat.
Zoey felt as if ribbons started wrapping around her body, preventing her from moving a single muscle. Unfortunately, that included the ones necessary for speech. She was frozen in place.
“I- uh- um… is i-it op-open? I-it’s okay if it i-isn’t I j… just wa-”
“I’m technically not open yet, but dude, you’re freezing. Come on in. I’ll make you something warm to drink.”
With a swift motion, the bar owner opened the door and gestured for Zoey to come in.
“S-sorry you don't have to, I c-can wait-t outside.”
“I can see you shivering. Please, be my guest.”
She didn’t try to correct the stranger. She was shivering from fear, not the cold. Still, she hesitantly walked through the door, the stranger’s footsteps following closely behind as she made a beeline to the far end of the bar.
I told you this was a bad idea!
Okay, but we can ask them about their bar now! They’re not going to be busy. Silver linings, eh?
You know how much work goes into running a food service, idiot. Of course they’re going to be busy setting up and taking inventory and-
“What can I get for you today?”
Snapped out of her thoughts by an unfamiliar voice, Zoey jumped in her seat before her eyes landed on the bartender who’d let her in. They were in uniform now, and God they were hot- wait what are you even saying? Focus, dumbass, and don’t embarrass yourself.
“Uhhh… hot chocolate?” Why are we ordering hot chocolate at a fucking bar?????
“You got it, ma’am. Sugar and milk sound good to ya?”
“Uh… yeah, sounds good.”
The bartender - their nametag said something that looked like “Riley”, but it was slightly difficult to read - went and prepared the drink. As they did that, Zoey reached for her tablet. That’s what she came here to do, after all. She’s gotta get at least one thing out of this whole debacle. Zoey began to sketch the rack of drinks in front of her (the back bar? She can’t quite remember the term despite her extensive research).
“Whatcha drawing?”
Zoey had spent years having to hide her art from people around her. Sometimes they were just curious, as she suspected Riley(?) was, but more often than not… She shuddered at the memories. Best not to think about that right now. Unfortunately, she’d already closed her drawing program on instinct.
“Uhhhh… nothing?”
“Didn’t look like nothing. Were you sketching the drinks behind me?”
“Y-yeah…” Zoey stammered, embarrassed at being clocked so easily. She opened the drawing back up. “It’s nothing crazy, but I needed a reference for a co- drawing! Yeah, drawing, that I’m doing.”
“There’s loads of pictures online, though, and of bars much nicer than… whatever this is,” Riley (the nametag definitely said “Riley”) said as they gestured to… a polished bar top? Was it supposed to look messy?
Well, it was time for Zoey to get it over with. This was a terrible idea. Here goes nothing.
“Okay, well, promise n-not to laugh… please? God, I sound so pathetic-”
“Don’t worry, I won’t judge. This is a safe space.” And Riley was winking at her. Great.
“Uh… I’m making a comic and there’s a bar setting that’s kinda important ‘cause it’s like… the bar is like the place where this spy group is using to exchange spy info? This is so d- stupid, but they’re like blending in with the commonfolk, right? So they start passing secret messages to the bartender through code words, except the code is like, different drink orders? Like, they have magic, but it could be easily tracked- oh yeah, this is a world that’s like, D&D inspired, you know? I’m sorry, that probably didn’t make that much sense… forget it, it’s dumb.”
Zoey looked up, and was reminded that she had ordered hot chocolate. Right. She took a sip (God it was heavenly) to distract herself from Riley’s inevitable laughter.
“Huh, that’s actually really badass! I’d love to be doing something like that,” they chuckled.
Zoey nearly choked on her drink. They… liked it? Not just that, but they thought it was cool?
“I… thanks. I came here because I needed to like, learn how bars work. Not like how they operate, I did a bunch of research on that! Although someone like you would probably offer more details. Not that you need to, of course! Sorry, but I wanted to observe how people interacted in a bar setting and how I might, you know, incorporate that spy stuff into it.”
She sighed. “I just… want to make it accurate, like as much as possible… and I saw a bar nearby called the Triangle and I saw that it was queer-friendly, and I thought a bar that’s like, small and different? In a way? Not that it’s bad, or your place is bad, or whatever, but I thought that it would be good for my research purposes, since this bar in the story is also for minority groups as well… Oh my God, I sound like a stalker, don’t I…”
“Hey, I’d love to help you out with that! Bit of an artist myself, actually. Used to do tattoos. Did some of the designs on the menus here. Haven’t had much time recently to draw, though…” A pause. Here it comes, here comes the criticism… “Wait, I never caught your name. I’m Riley Verselis, they/them, the owner of Triangle.”
“Z-Zoey… Zoey Raghavan, she/her. I’m a webcomic artist…”
“That’s sick, dude. So is this going to be your first comic, or…?”
“No, actually I finished my debut com-”
Zoey was saved from admitting that her last comic was nothing close to “cool” or “badass” by a sudden knock on a door, followed by a buzzer coming from an intercom.
“Hey Zoobs! Open up, I got your shit back here!”
“God, not her… Okay, you wanna see how bars work? You should come with me to get this delivery. I’ll show you how the bar gets stocked.” Riley gestured at her to enter the back bar, pointing at a door that read “EMPLOYEES ONLY”. Zoey hesitated as she put her tablet back into her bag, but complied. The short trek through the back of the business felt like a sin: Zoey wasn’t an employee! What was she doing here? And who was this loud delivery guy?
Riley pulled the back door open with a grunt, and both of them were attacked by the violent gusts outside, sending a plethora of chilled air through the establishment. Once she’d recovered after nearly falling over from the force of the wind, Zoey looked outside to see a tall, lanky delivery woman who was tapping her foot impatiently.
“Zoobie, what took you so long, man? And who’s this gangly girl?”
“Her name’s Zoey. Says she’s a webcomic artist, she wants to learn how bars work for her comic. Now, where’s my stuff?”
“Geez, well you don’t see that every day! Zoey, huh… sounds familiar…” Zoey flinched at the off-hand comment, and the delivery woman seemed to straighten up as she connected the dots. “Riles finally got a girlfriend! Don’t tell me she’s famous, too?” she asked with a grin.
“Shut up, Lee. Can you please give me my shit? You’re cooling the whole building, and heating is expensive. Tryna bankrupt me? Also, I met Zoey thirty minutes ago. We are not dating.”
Lee chuckled, as if she just heard a hilarious joke that no one else understood. “If you say so!” She went to the back of her delivery truck, pulling out a trolley and placing five boxes on top of it. As Lee wheeled the trolley over to the pair, she kept talking. “I’ll have to come by tonight, then. Gotta get to know your girl more, heh.”
Paying no more attention to Lee’s antics, Riley simply started unloading the boxes and brought them into the back room. Zoey, however, was still stunned by the whole exchange. ‘Girlfriend’? ‘Your girl’? What was this guy on about? Still, she couldn’t help but feel shy and hid her face in her scarf.
Lee, unfortunately, noticed. “I was right!”
This was the wrong thing to say, as Riley had just finished unloading the boxes. They pushed the trolley right at Lee, making her stumble backwards. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“Aww, you love me Riley. Now, I can’t leave yet!” Lee pulled out a card reader. Sighing, Riley slid a card into it and punched in their PIN, before taking their card back out as soon as the transaction was processed. “Now you can leave.”
“Bye Zoey! See you tonight!” Lee gave a quick salute, then waved as she walked back to her truck, got into the driver’s seat, and drove off.
What the fuck?